


Under Pressure

by kadabralin



Series: If Love is the Answer [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Humanoid Squip, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mystery, Rimming, Romance, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 86,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadabralin/pseuds/kadabralin
Summary: An impromptu road trip to Alabama with Jeremy's friends results in the Squip returning for the third time and things get weirder even faster than before. Will they ever figure out what the fuck is going on?Maybe things were just weird to begin with.Sequel toTouch.





	1. Chapter 1

_Jeremy._

He was holding someone's hand. He couldn't see their face.

_Hold on to me._

He could see a smile in the inky dark, familiar, sad. He wouldn't let go for anything in the world.

_Don't be afraid._

He wasn't, not until his companion let him go. Jeremy reached out, to grab their hand, but they were too far away now, so far away, too far.

_come back come back_

.  
.  
.

Jeremy was staring at the popcorn ceiling of his room, groggy and irritated. He didn't want to be up yet, it was too _early_ , but he had things to do and putting them off would just inconvenience everyone else. He rolled over with an overdramatic groan and reached for his phone, unplugging it from the charger.

Five text messages from Michael.

"i know it's late. can't sleep. do we need a potato ricer?"

"what about a cassette player"

"i'm taking your lack of response as a yes"

"about the potato ricer"

"i'm bringing over McDonalds"

That last one was only from a half hour ago. Michael would probably be here any minute, and he'd need to be awake enough to help his dad transport heavy furniture out of his room down into the awaiting U-Haul. He was moving out today, officially, from his dad's place, the house he'd grown up in, and into a shitty apartment with Michael. It only had one bathroom and the online reviews said the place had a roach problem, but Jeremy was still excited about it. Progress. Another step forward.

It was hard to believe it'd already been over a year.

He still struggled sometimes, with the grief, but it was better. Easier. He didn't feel like he was missing an entire chunk of himself anymore; life had filled it in, with conversation and tiny accomplishments until he was a whole person again. Himself. Jeremy. He still missed Squip, though. A lot.

Well. Time to start the day.

Jeremy dragged himself out of bed and started throwing the last of his things into a box. Everything else was already packed, sealed, and ready to go, meaning they could head out as soon as they finished eating. Christine was supposed to meet them later to help them unpack once they moved everything into the apartment. He heard the doorbell ring and his dad call him from downstairs, but Jeremy wasn't ready to leave. Not just yet. The room looked disproportionately small now with everything stripped down to its bare essentials and stashed away.

He felt a little sad to see it like that.

"Yo, Jere, I bought you hot cakes! Hurry and wake the hell up."

"I'm up, I'm coming, chill out." Jeremy picked up the final box and finally stepped out of his now former bedroom, trudging carefully down the stairs, toward a new beginning.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, is that it?" Jeremy collapsed onto the couch, the box he'd been holding resting in his lap. Getting everything stuffed inside the U-Haul and then up two flights of stairs had taken _much_ longer than he thought it would. Jeremy didn't even think he had that much stuff until it was all shoved into boxes, and combined with both his and Michael's furniture it'd become a chaotic frenzy to get everything into the bedroom between rain showers. Because, of course, with Jeremy's luck, the 20% chance of rain predicted for the day had skyrocketed to 100. He was tired, sore, and uncomfortably damp.

"Yep. All empty down there." His dad was red in the face and disturbingly sweaty. "That's it."

"Cool, that's it."

"Need help with anything else, son?"

"No, dad, Michael and I have everything else covered."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, guess I'll just return the U-Haul then." His dad shuffled over to the door, keys in hand. "You can call me if you need anything. Let me know if that couch doesn't work out."

"I will. Thanks, dad." Jeremy smiled, and he would have gotten up to actually hug his father like a decent, well-adjusted human being, but his arms felt like noodles and the box on his lap was too heavy to move.

"Right. See ya, son."

"See you, dad."

His dad saluted, a little awkwardly, and Jeremy saluted in return, also awkwardly. Then he turned and left the apartment, shutting the badly-insulated door behind him. Jeremy sighed and dropped his head back against the couch cushions, eyes closed.

"Think your dad'll be okay?" Michael had already ripped open one of the boxes and was pulling out the guts.

"Yeah. He should be fine. He said he'd be fine." His dad was alone in their, well, his, house now. Jeremy felt a little guilty about it, and he shouldn't, but he did anyway. But his dad would be fine, he knew this day was coming. He'd warned him about it before the semester ended for the summer. So...

"When's Christine getting here?"

"Oh, shit, I was supposed to text her." Jeremy carefully slid the box from his lap, but he only really managed to tip it over onto its side, contents spilling out onto the cushions and floor since it hadn't been taped shut. He tried to shove it all back inside with one hand, texting Christine with the other. "She said she's on her way."

"Awesome."

This was nice. It was weird, but it was nice. Kind of like moving into his college dorm for the first time, but more permanent. Michael wasted no time in setting up his computer and things were already starting to feel a little homey. When Christine arrived, things picked up a little more. Jeremy had taken a brief power nap before she showed up, and she was ready to go immediately.

"You're _really_ hyped about this." Jeremy crammed some random odds and ends into a desk drawer.

"I love helping people move. It's so fun, you know? Like a game, a puzzle, maybe? And you never know what you'll find. Like this Eminem shirt." Christine fished the shirt in question out of the box she'd been unloading. Jeremy stared at it blankly for a moment.

"Wow. I forgot I'd kept that thing." He forgot he even still had it. It must've been shoved unceremoniously to the bottom of his closet somewhere and stayed submerged until Jeremy started packing up his life. He hadn't even noticed it at the time, but he never actually sorted through any of his junk. Maybe that's why he had so many boxes full of unnecessary garbage.

"You want to keep it? I started a 'stuff-you-should-probably-get-rid-of' pile for you. I can toss it in there." Christine gestured to a small stack of things behind her.

"I..." Jeremy frowned a little, turning his attention back to his box. Who knew such a God-awful shirt could make him feel so... conflicted? He never liked Eminem, he only bought it because Squip had told him to, and it was just an uncomfortable reminder of all the awful shit that proceeded it. Yet, in a weird way, he still wanted to keep it. Maybe that was a problem? It was definitely a problem. Jeremy shrugged a little. "Yeah, get-- Get rid of it. Thanks."

Christine cheerfully flung the shirt into her pile and continued unpacking in silence, humming a tune Jeremy didn't quite recognize. His mood had dropped suddenly, and his stomach was twisting in knots. This was the last way he wanted to feel right now. He'd been doing so _good_ recently. Damn it. He should have burned the shirt or something back in high school.

"Okay. I'm starving. Who's coming with me to get pizza?" Michael appeared in the doorway, chewing on what Jeremy could only identify as a piece of plastic. Gross.

"Oh! Me!" Christine hopped up excitedly. "I have _coupons._ "

"I like the sound of that," Michael grinned. "Alright, Jeremy, hold down the fort. Don't work too hard."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't take too long; I might start chewing on the furniture if you haven't started already."

Michael's smile widened a little more and he rolled the piece of plastic between his teeth.

"You got it, dude."

"Michael, I want _extra_ pineapple on mine." Christine was pushing Michael out of the room.

"I honestly can't tell if you're serious..."

Jeremy sat back and listened to his friend's chatter as they left, the sound of the door shutting, their footsteps disappearing down the hall. And then he was alone with just his thoughts for company. He shoved the box away from him and flopped down onto the floor. Jeremy was sick of unpacking, but he wasn't sure what else to do with himself until they got back. Organize the bathroom, maybe? Hang stuff up in the closet? Check for bugs? Take a nap? He sighed and scrubbed at his face, then laid there for a good ten minutes accomplishing nothing.

This was going to take forever.

He forced himself to sit up, glancing at the time on his phone, then slowly pushed himself to stand. Now that he thought about it, they were kind of missing a lot of things. Like toilet paper. And napkins. Soap. Michael and Christine were bringing back pizza but they couldn't live on that forever. The kitchen was barren, it needed to be stocked with _something._ There was a convenience store within walking distance; he could waste time by picking up some things, and everyone would be back by then, probably. Good plan. He had this independent adult thing down pat already.

The walk was nice enough. It was still a little too warm, but it was manageable. Once he actually got there he went a little overboard buying things, trying to use up as much time as possible, which he didn't realize until he had his arms full of bags and remembered he'd walked and not taken his car. The walk back became uncomfortable, the plastic handles digging painfully into his skin from their weight, and his already tired arms were even sorer than before. To make it worse he had to dump everything on the ground so he could actually get his keys out of his pocket, leaving him mildly agitated.

Maybe he _should_ have taken that extra nap. No one needed to deal with his steadily increasing crankiness.

Jeremy went to unlock the door but paused when it gave a little, creaking open just slightly like it hadn't been closed all the way. He stared at it. He was completely certain that he'd locked it on his way out. Maybe Christine and Michael were back like he'd hoped?

"Hello?"

He bent down to scoop up the bags and nudged the door open further with his foot. The apartment was quiet; he couldn't see or hear anyone from where he was in the doorway. It was entirely possible he actually had forgotten to lock the door. Jeremy stepped inside, shuffling the bags around carefully and closing the door with his foot again.

"Guys? You back?" He dumped the bags on the floor, rubbing the red grooves they'd left in his arms, and stepped fully into the living room. "Guess I did forget to lock it..." he grumbled to himself. He'd really been hoping they'd be back by now. What was taking the pizza so long? Jeremy pulled out his phone to check it but was startled by movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone had just come out of his room. He looked up quickly.

"Mich--" Not Michael. That wasn't Michael. Dread filled every part of him, pooling in his stomach like lead.

"Yo." Alex leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smile on his face. Jeremy could only stare helplessly. "Long time no see, Jeremy."

"You-- How did you--" He could barely speak. Jeremy could hear his heart thud in his ears. What the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck_. His eyes flicked to the inside of his room when he heard movement. Alex wasn't here alone. There was someone else in his room. He could see a faint outline of a person, the corner of his desk, his laptop taken apart and parts arranged neatly. "What--"

Alex turned his head to look behind him, probably at the other person he couldn't see.

"He's back, you know. Put the compressed air down, already." Jeremy could hear someone utter a quiet _oh_ in response, hear metal clanking, the squeak of his old desk chair. Alex moved a little out of the doorway to make room as the other person walked up.

"Hey, Sweetheart." 

It was his mother. _Mom._ Just standing there, smile uncertain, looking at him, actually literally physically there. Jeremy's mouth had gone completely dry. It felt like his lips were numb, blood _whooshing_ in his ears.

His mom was in his apartment.

He hadn't seen or heard from her in _years_.

She was here with _Alex._

Jeremy stumbled back a little, bracing himself against the back of the couch, aware that his mouth was moving but he couldn't actually get any words out. His mom was wringing her hands, that way he always remembered her doing when she was upset about something. When was the last time he'd blinked? Alex seemed to notice the tension because he was suddenly speaking, stepping over to him.

"Yeah, so, this is Linda. My host." Alex gestured a little, then wrapped an arm around Jeremy's shoulders, shepherding him over to the other side of the couch, forcing him to sit. "And, as you've noticed, also your mom. I guess this technically makes us brothers? Huh." He was chuckling as if he'd never considered that thought until literally just now. Alex was also still talking, but Jeremy was only half listening. It was hard to hear over the thudding in his ears, anyway.

"Got your bags all packed... Just waiting for Michael... Place isn't bad... Got any sweets, Linda's blood sugar is low and she hasn't eaten... Oh, cool, you went shopping."

Jeremy watched dumbly as Alex fished through the plastic bags on the floor, unable to move from the spot he'd been placed in. His brain was having a hard time keeping up. Everything felt surreal.

"You..." That was all Jeremy could manage to get out of his mouth after a while, and Alex looked back at him questioningly. The front door opened. Michael and Christine walked in, chattering excitedly, carrying pizzas. They both stopped after nearly running over Alex.

"Woah." Michael blinked repeatedly at Alex, mouth slack, while Christine just looked completely confused.

"Jeremy?"

"It's nice to see you again, Michael." His mom was speaking suddenly, the first time she'd piped up since unceremoniously appearing out of his room. Michael ripped his eyes away from Alex to look at Linda instead.

"Mrs-- Mrs. Heere?"

"Jeremy, you didn't say your mom was visiting. I would've bought an extra pizza." Christine's voice was chipper, but confused, maybe a little alarmed. There was obvious tension in the room and she wouldn't have a clue what was going on. _Jeremy_ didn't know what was going on. Michael almost dropped the pizza he was holding but Alex caught it in time.

"Oh, awesome. Linda, _pizza._ " Alex carried the pizza over to the counter, the only one in the room that was calm and relaxed.

Jeremy could see Michael constantly looking at him, then back at Alex, but he still couldn't bring himself to actually move. Or say anything. Or, well, think. Alex was handing Linda a slice of pizza and she reluctantly took it while eyeing Christine.

"You're Christine. I've heard so much about you."

"Really?" Christine smiled a little, finally setting down the pizza box she was holding. She glanced at Jeremy for a moment. "Jeremy, uh. He doesn't... Well, it's really nice to meet you. Are you staying?"

"Actually, we're just leaving. Alex, it's time to go, get the bags, please."

"What about her?" Alex pointed at Christine.

"Well..." Linda moved over to Christine, patting her shoulder, smiling. "We don't have a bag for you, but you're welcome to come along, if you like. We can buy you anything you need."

Christine's smile was a little more strained.

"Go where?"

"We'll let you know in the car." Alex had two bags slung over his shoulder and two boxes of pizza in his hand as he walked over to the couch, gently yanking Jeremy up by the arm with his free hand. He stood up quickly, head swimming, just letting Alex tug him along. Michael seemed to finally snap out of the stupor he was in.

"We're-- Wait, we are _not_ going anywhere, what the _hell_ \--" But he was cut off by Alex giving him a shove, pushing him toward the door. He gave Michael's back a firm pat.

"Better if you just comply, Michael. Honestly."

Alex ushered them all out the door like sheep, Michael trying to interject protests, Jeremy following dumbly along and Linda closing and locking the door behind them. He could feel Christine nudge his shoulder, whispering.

"Jeremy, what's happening?"

He looked at her, still unblinking, eyes watering, and just shrugged. A weak lift and drop of his shoulders. Christine's face went from extremely confused to mildly perturbed in an instant.

"Come on, people, we're wasting daylight."

Jeremy looked back at his mom as the group of them fumbled down the stairs, pushed and prodded along as a herd, and she met his eyes just for an instant, then looked away. He turned forward again, letting Alex dictate the direction and feeling mildly relieved, because Jeremy no longer knew where anything in his life was going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex: yeah so Jeremy I guess we’re brothers :)  
> Jeremy: oh  
> Jeremy: /remembering the make-outs, illicit drug use, almost-sex  
> Jeremy: /KILL BILL SIRENS


	2. Chapter 2

When Jeremy was a kid, he used to love car rides. _Loved_ them. He'd go on errands with his parents just for the opportunity, enjoying how fast the world sped by, how everything always seemed to change every day, always something new to see. He could relax in his own little world, the backseat, and just observe. If he had a bad day he could simply glue his eyes to the car windows and watch everything disappear behind him. It was soothing. It helped him feel better.

Jeremy has having a pretty terrible day, and even being in the back of a car didn't help. He was squished in the middle, between Michael and Christine, and he was staring down at his shoes. Everything had been going fine, and then life had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head, leaving him numb and confused. Michael kept trying to talk to him, in whispers, but Jeremy couldn't bring himself to respond, so Michael rested a hand on his knee instead. Christine was looking increasingly uncomfortable, hands squeezed between her knees, leg bouncing.

None of them had bothered to ask where they were going yet. The only real noise came from the radio, pop music from the local station drifting into the back and drowning out any thoughts Jeremy tried to form. At some point he finally looked up, after the car jostled them after running over a pothole, and he saw his mom, sitting in the passenger seat, eating pizza as if everything was perfectly normal and nothing was wrong or weird or just plain fucked up. Jeremy felt a little twinge of something, a tense little ache between his shoulder blades and throb in his temple, causing him to bite down on his lip and look back at his feet.

"So, um... Where are we going, exactly?" Christine finally asked the golden question. Alex glanced at them from the rearview mirror.

"Alabama," Linda answered. She was looking out her window.

"Oh. Can I, well, am I allowed to ask why?" The nervousness in Christine's voice was only increasing.

"This was supposed to just be a trip for Jeremy, but we figured he'd feel better if we brought Michael along, and, well, you were there..." Alex drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, smiling into the mirror.

"That doesn't actually answer my question."

"It's a surprise." Alex glanced at the three of them again, packed together like sardines. "And it's a long drive, so if you need to make a pitstop, just let me know."

"Alabama..." Michael was muttering to himself. He finally sighed, a tired, resigned sound and leaned back into his seat with a hand on his face. "Guess I need to cancel dinner with my moms tomorrow."

"Oh, Michael, your parents. How are they? Doing well?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, they're, you know, happy and... Great. Everything's great, Mrs. Heere." Michael squinted down at his phone.

"Good. Good, I'm glad."

Silence once again settled over the interior car. Alex was humming, now, along with the music, and Michael had moved his hand from Jeremy's knee to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. The rest of the drive felt like an agonizingly long blur. The quiet was only broken intermittently by Alex asking if anyone needed anything, or Christine and Michael whispering to each other, trying to figure out what was happening. All Jeremy wanted was to go back to this morning, when he was still in his old room at his dad's place, getting ready to take an important next step in his life, finally having a clear idea of where he was going and why.

It was all gone in an instant, but he didn't feel anything. Nothing, except tired. He felt like the sky, darkening, all light snuffed out as the sun sank into the ground, leaving a dark abyss where not even stars could shine through. Just cold and empty.

Jeremy didn't know when he'd fallen asleep. He opened his eyes suddenly and it was morning, and he was smooshed between Christine and Michael, both still asleep, both leaning against him like he was some kind of human pillow. Alex was asleep, too, now in the passenger seat. Only Linda was awake. She was driving, a cup of fast food coffee in her hand, no radio, nothing. He tried not to move, both to prevent waking up his friends but to also avoid detection. He didn't want her to know he was awake. He didn't want her to try to talk to him while everyone else was asleep. He didn't even want to look at her.

They were driving down a dirt road, nothing but grass and trees around them, but Jeremy could see a small house approaching in the distance. It looked old, but not worn down. There were flowers planted out front. It was the only house Jeremy could see, everything else in the distance obscured by thick forest. Linda slowed the car to a crawl and eventually parked, then just sat there for a couple of minutes. He wondered why. What were they doing here? Why was she just sitting there? Linda slowly leaned forward, tilting her head against the steering wheel, took a long, deep breath, and sighed. Then she sat up straight and nudged Alex.

"You always sleep too long."

"I _like_ sleeping. It's fun." Alex was grinning, looking wide awake as if he hadn't been sleeping at all. Linda smiled, just a little, then unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Can you corral everyone inside? I want to make breakfast right away."

"Yes, ma'am."

Alex turned around and Jeremy quickly shut his eyes, to pretend he was still sleeping. He hoped it was passable. Alex clapped his hands in front of his face, three loud, near-deafening whacks.

"Up and at 'em, everybody. Come on. Linda's making waffles."

After some mild confusion and stretching their unused muscles, Alex managed to herd them all inside the small house, bags slung over his shoulders. There was an extra one now, for Christine. Jeremy didn't remember when they'd stopped to get it. The place was clean and neat. In fact, it barely looked lived in at all, and it reminded Jeremy of the time he'd been inside Alex's apartment. Unlike Alex's apartment, the kitchen was definitely in use. It was also bigger than it looked from the outside. It extended out vertically, a long hallway leading to a corridor.

Jeremy stood there, trying to absorb it all, until Alex shoved a duffle bag into his arms.

"Follow me, come on."

Christine and Michael glanced at each other and didn't move until Jeremy started walking forward, head down, barely seeing where he was going. He should be feeling something. Anger, maybe. At least some anxiety. But he couldn't even muster up that much. It was like his mom's sudden appearance had sucked all the feeling right out of him. He didn't know if he liked it or not, this not feeling thing.

"This is your room, Jeremy." Alex opened a door to reveal a small bedroom, the smell of freshly washed linen drifting out and hitting Jeremy in the face. Alex gently pushed him inside, hand against his back. "Go on. Get settled in. I'll get you when breakfast is ready." He turned away, arms around Michael and Christine's shoulders. "Your rooms are further down..."

Jeremy dropped the bag. It landed at his feet with a dull thud and he stared down at it. What a weird morning. He kicked it. What a weird twenty-four hours. He kicked it again, a little harder. What a weird _life_. He almost kicked it a third time, but the desire left before he could lift his foot again. Instead, he sank to the floor and just sat there until Christine poked her head in the room.

"Hey, Jeremy? Alex wanted me to tell you that food is on the table. So." She looked at him, brows knit, a tight frown on her face. "Come on. You can't just sit in here by yourself." He made no move to stand but allowed Christine to tug him up by the arm. "It smells really good..."

He sat down next to Michael and ate without tasting anything. It was there, so he put it in his mouth, but he didn’t actually _want_ it. In fact, his stomach was starting to hurt, but he ate it anyway, eyes glued to the tablecloth.

"So you're probably wondering why you're here." Alex was speaking, breaking through the awkward silence in the room, and Jeremy looked up slightly. Alex was looking at him. Michael's hand was loosely gripping his elbow. Everyone was staring at him now. Everyone except Linda, because she wasn't at the table anymore. She'd disappeared down into the basement. Jeremy forced himself to bob his head in a slight nod. His neck felt stiff. "Remember that red pill I gave you?"

He bobbed his head again.

"Great. So the point of that was to rewrite your Squip's code and prevent it from-"

"Wait," Christine interjected. "Squip? You mean that crazy drug thing from high school?" She looked increasingly alarmed.

Alex hesitated. "Does she not know what happened?"

"...Not really." Michael glanced at Christine, who shot him a look. Alex shrugged a little.

"Oh well. Too late now." He flicked his attention back to Jeremy. " _Anyway_ , if you _hadn't_ taken it, it either would have tried to squip the town or your school or just plain drove you insane." Alex paused, as if for dramatic effect, and Jeremy just stared at him. "I mean, it was entirely possible the overhaul would have made it completely unstable and then you would have completely lost touch with reality and yatta yatta..."

"Isn't that what almost happened?" Michael's voice was low, not quite upset, but close enough. Jeremy still couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Yes, _but_ , it didn't. Which is the important part. It successfully overcame its original programming and self-destructed. Congratulations."

Alex was congratulating him? For what? Something clenched in his chest, causing him to hunch his shoulders up to his ears. Was this some kind of weird torture thing?

"You had to drag us to Alabama for this?" Christine had her hand against her forehead, elbow propped up on the table, lost.

"Yep." Alex stood up. "Here's a funny thing about the new programming: it breaks the firewalls down. The ones that keep all of the original squip's influences from interfering. Squips are real buggy that way, and they haven't figured out how to actually get rid of it." He stepped over to the basement door. "The original squip was based on a person, and then put inside the brain of another person, and those imprints are still there, just under the surface, messing everything up. You could call it a ghost, maybe. AI is kind of a crapshoot."

"Point, please?" Michael had removed his glasses and was pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

Alex flung open the basement door. "Point _is_ , Jeremy's squip turned into its own fully sentient consciousness, and human brains aren't meant to deal with more than one of those. Causes problems. So you have to put it somewhere else to prevent the entire system from crashing." He stepped down the stairs. "Come on, times wasting."

"Jeremy?" Christine's voice was uncertain, a little afraid, definitely concerned. She looked as lost as he felt.

"Fuck it." Michael pushed himself from the table and stood. "Let's go."

"Go?"

"The basement."

"Are... are you sure? Jeremy doesn't look so good-"

"I know, but-"

"I can speak for myself," Jeremy's voice was wobbly. "I-I can. Thanks." His fists tightened in his lap. He could speak again, that was something. "I'm going downstairs."

* * *

The basement smelled like Mountain Dew and formaldehyde, a nauseating combination. It reminded Jeremy of freshman year biology when he had to dissect a frog and a baby pig. The stairs were also steep, going down much deeper than any basement he'd ever been in. Between the damp coolness and the smell, he almost turned around and ran back upstairs, but Michael and Christine were behind him and he couldn't turn back now. It was too late, he'd made his choice, and he had to face whatever it was that prompted Alex and his mother to reappear back in his life.

The stairs finally came to an end, and Jeremy carefully stepped down onto metal floor. This didn't look like any basement he'd ever been in; it looked like a _lab_ , something you'd only see in movies. It was brightly lit, there were tanks filled with green liquid, Alex was standing by a table-

Christine made a strangled noise.

"Is that a _body_?"

"Yep," Alex called cheerfully from the other side of the room. "Come on over. Well, actually, how about just Jeremy."

Jeremy frowned, slowly walking forward, toward the body on the table. He could feel Michael's eyes burning into the back of his head. It looked like a dead person, just laying there, naked, slightly damp. They could've passed for being asleep, but they weren't breathing or moving at all.

They looked like Squip. The face was identical.

"What do you think? Took a year, but it's done." Alex was watching him expectantly, but when he didn't say anything, he kept talking. "Got all the data from you when I sent you that download. It should only work with your squip's signature."

"Squip is gone." He couldn't look away from the body's face.

"Weren't you listening?" Alex tapped Jeremy's forehead. "Your squip isn't gone, Jeremy. It's still there, just shut down. You have to transfer its consciousness to this swanky new android body."

"How?" Jeremy flicked his eyes to Alex briefly.

"Here." Alex handed him a bottle of Mountain Dew. Jeremy stared at it, frowning.

"But... But I..."

"You have to gargle it and then spit it into their mouth."

Jeremy nearly dropped the bottle, looking at Alex with a mix of alarm and confusion, eyebrows shooting up. Alex laughed at him.

"I'm messing with you." He patted Jeremy's back. "Just drink it. Go on."

Jeremy hesitated, looked down at the bottle in his hands, then quickly opened it and gave it a quick swig. Actually, he chugged half the bottle in one go, which was gross, and he got carbonation up his nose and that sucked. He stood there and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for, exactly, so when a minute passed and nothing happened he looked back at Alex helplessly.

"Put your foreheads together. It's perfectly safe. Promise." Alex gave him an encouraging thumbs up. Jeremy licked his lips and shuffled a little closer to the body, uncertain, a little scared, but he did as Alex suggested. He dropped the bottle of Mountain Dew on the floor, not caring that it spilled all over his shoes, and tilted his forehead against the squip-body's. They looked so similar it was uncanny. He felt a little stupid like this, just kind of standing there, keenly aware that everyone was watching him. Linda was probably watching him, too, from where ever in the room she was.

Nothing happened. He almost pulled aware, but a wave of _something_ quickly washed over him, leaving him dizzy and disoriented and rooted to the spot. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was uncomfortable, his head filling up like an overinflated balloon and then exploding. His vision swam, then resharpened in an instant, and he stumbled back when the body moved. Alex gently caught him by the shoulders to keep him from falling.

It wasn't anything dramatic. The body was breathing now, slowly, fingers tentatively flexing. Then the eyes opened, a familiar bright blue and Jeremy felt like he couldn't stand anymore. Thank god Alex was holding him up.

"Jeremy?" The voice was quiet, but he recognized it immediately. It was _Squip's_ voice. Their eyes slowly moved over to him, tired and confused, lips curved into a small frown. "You're crying."

Oh. He was. He hadn't even noticed.


	3. Chapter 3

They really were in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. It was dark, the moon was high in the sky, but it looked different. Everything looked different. Without the light pollution of the city, Jeremy could actually see the stars. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Splattered across the horizon for miles and miles in chaotic but beautiful disarray. He'd never been this far away from civilization before. He'd lived his whole life in the suburbs. He'd never gone camping. The night air was thick with humidity and buzzing with insects, but he didn't care. Jeremy could lay here and stare up at the sky for hours, lost in it, billions of twinkling little lights. 

"I still can't believe your mom is some kind of mad scientist," Michael drawled, joint held up in the air.

"Yeah. Yeah, I had no idea. I thought she was a divorce lawyer." It didn't even bother him. Everything was pleasantly fuzzy and right now, with Michael and Christine and the stars, he could afford to relax. To not overthink. 

"Even mad scientists need a day job." Christine took the joint from Michael, looking thoughtful. "Your family is super weird, Jeremy."

"Tell me about it." Weird didn't even cover it, honestly. Was everything he knew about his mom a lie? Linda was born and raised in New Jersey. Her parents, his grandparents, were dead before he was born but they were from New York. She was a divorce lawyer. She worked all the time. She _left_. She left to do some kind of crazy experiments in rural Alabama and Jeremy was somehow caught up in it. He still hadn't been given an explanation. He didn't think we wanted one.

It was still a little too much to process.

"So, like, that guy? In the basement. That's your Squip?"

Jeremy turned his head to look at Christine.

"Yeah."

"I didn't think he'd be so hot." Michael chimed in, smile teasing.

"Did you see his dick? It was _huge_!" Christine was giggling. 

"Oh my god, I'm not high enough for this conversation." Jeremy, face red, fished the joint away from Christine. 

"You have to be able to talk about these things, Jeremy." Michael nudged him in the ribs. "Size is important." 

"I-it was just, you know _average_ , seriously, why were you even _looking._ "

"Well, you know, it was right there..." Christine rolled over onto her stomach. "They didn't give him a blanket or anything. It was hard _not_ to look."

"Stop. Please. You're killing me." Jeremy shut his eyes and scrunched up his face. Michael was laughing, which was nice. He was worried Michael was going to be mad about all of this, not that Jeremy could blame him.

The laughter faded, replaced by the chirp of crickets and low whine of mosquitoes. It was nice out here, even if the air was muggy and thick in a way he'd never experienced back home. Serene. 

"How long is he supposed to sleep for?"

"Alex said a few days." A few days. A few days sounded like an impossible feat. In two, three, maybe four days, Squip would be awake. _Alive._ It didn't seem real. It shouldn't be real. He'd just started to accept that Squip was gone, forever, and then _this_. He'd been too afraid to touch him after the initial activation process, in case Squip broke or disappeared or it all turned out to be some crazy dream. 

_"The sleep part is important. He has to fully charge, learn the ins and outs of the new body, then he'll be good to go. Then he'll only need to sleep about half of what you do."_

Alex was a riddle wrapped up in an enigma. Jeremy still had no idea what to think or feel about the guy, but he seemed mostly genuine. Guess he hadn't been lying about being a squip, after all.

"And they're supposed to be your boyfriend?" They’d explained everything to Christine, while high, since that seemed the most logical and efficient way to delve into the crazy. She still had a lot of questions, though, which was to be expected. There’d been a lot to unpack. Jeremy shrugged a little in response, feeling embarrassed.

"Yeah. I guess, yeah." Maybe. Possibly. Sort of. Squip wasn't even awake yet, they shouldn't be talking about him like this. It didn't seem fair.

Michael, who had gone quiet, was standing up now.

"Where are you going?" Jeremy tilted his head to watch Michael upside down.

"I need some air."

"We're surrounded by air."

"Different air."

"Oh." He watched Michael walk off, hands stuffed in his jacket, frowning. Maybe Michael was mad after all? Jeremy sat up, uncertain, contemplating following after him. Christine gave him a questioning look.

"I missed something."

"...You kind of did." Jeremy pulled his knees to his chest, sighing deeply. Shit. He didn't want Michael to be mad. He wouldn't even know how to fix it. All of this happened out of the blue, out of his control. "Michael, um, he... He put up with a lot, last time. Both times, honestly. He probably thought it was over. I thought it was over."

Christine slowly sat up, too.

"I get that." She fiddled with some of her hair. "Honestly, when Alex started talking about squips I thought I was getting punked, like, super intensely." 

"Really?"

Christine nodded. "Really. And I'm kind of, I don't know... I wish one of you had actually explained what was going on. I know we broke up, but,' she frowned, "I still wanted to be your friend, you know? You could have told me about it."

"No, I know. I-I get it. There was just a lot going on, and you had your new school and career and..." Jeremy swallowed. It sounded like one giant excuse. "Sorry. I think I'm just not great friend material."

She tilted her head against his shoulder, quiet for a moment.

"That's not true. You're great, Jeremy. But, you know, life is crazy and you need to know that you can actually depend on us. Really. You're not alone." She huffed a little, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "It'll work out. If I can figure my life out, anyone can."

"Thanks, Christine." Jeremy glanced down at his bare feet, dirty and covered in bites that were definitely going to itch up a storm later. "I should probably find Michael. I don't want him to get mauled by a possum or something."

"Doesn't Alabama have alligators?"

Jeremy stared. "Can't those things climb fences and chase you?"

Christine just shrugged a little, and Jeremy shuffled up quickly.

"Okay, now I'm definitely going to find him. Michael? Hey, Michael, where'd you go?" Jeremy jogged a little but gave that up to keep himself from tripping over the badly-kept land, leaving Christine in the grass behind him. There was a lot of property between the house and the trees, but eventually, Jeremy stumbled upon a wooden dock, leading out into a body of water, rippling, reflecting the sky. Alligators lived in water, right? That was a thing. He almost panicked a little, but he spotted Michael standing at the edge of the dock. "Hey, what about-- What about the alligators?"

Michael paused, then slowly turned around, looking confused as Jeremy approached.

"What?"

"I- Christine said- Nothing. Nevermind. Hi."

"Hey." Michael turned back toward the water.

"So, um." Jeremy shuffled up next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Are _you_ okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Jeremy kept glancing at Michael's face, trying to read his expression, but it was too dark. "I'm not worried about me, though."

"You should be." Michael was frowning, Jeremy could see that much. "You were like a zombie until a few hours ago. _I_ was worried."

"My mom showing up with Alex kind of broke my brain a little, I think." Jeremy shrugged slightly. "I think I'm... okay?" He still had to process everything emotionally, but that wasn't going to happen overnight.

"Right, well, I'm okay, too. I just needed a minute to think." Michael turned his head to look at him. "I thought all the squip stuff was over, but I should've known better."

"Yeah, well, I thought it was over, too." Michael just nodded his head in response, not speaking right away.

"I'm going to be here, no matter what happens. But I don't know if I'm prepared to go through all this third time. I'm kind of pissed at your mom, not gonna lie. Like, what kind of mom fucks off and then just shows up and _does_ something like this? To her kid? This is seriously messed up." Jeremy hunched his shoulders a little and bit his lip. He didn't want to talk about his mom right now. Michael seemed to sense that. "Sorry. I know I'm preaching to the choir right now. Talk to me when you're ready?"

"Course I will."

"Cool." Michael squinted at the water. "So you worried I was getting eaten alive by alligators?"

Jeremy laughed, a little embarrassed. 

"I don't know, man. The south is _weird_."

It was Michael's turn to laugh.

"Hella weird."

"Right?" Jeremy tugged at the pockets of his pants. "So we're cool? Ev-everything is cool?"

"Yeah. Everything's cool." Michael smiled and Jeremy felt relieved. 

"Co--" He didn't get to finish his sentence. Michael quickly pulled a hand out of his pocket, smile widening into a grin, and shoved him. Jeremy clumsily fell off the dock and landed in the water with a small yelp. Michael was laughing hysterically once he breached the surface. "Dude, what the _fuck_." The water was _cold._

"Cowabunga!" Michael leaped into the water, splashing Jeremy in the face. He couldn't help but smile. "Shit, that was refreshing."

"You're such a dick. What if _I_ got eaten by alligators?" 

"Well, I was gonna dive right in after you anyway, so I could fight them off. You just deck them in the nose, right?"

"Wow, Michael." Jeremy's face was splitting into a wide smile, completely out of his control.

"No way, you seriously _can't_ be having fun without me!" Christine came walking up the dock. "And here I was, thinking someone was hurt because I heard shouting. _Jeez._ " She was kicking off her shoes.

"Woo, join us join us!" Michael splashed water up onto the deck as Jeremy laughed and Christine tried to get out of the splash zone. 

"My clothes-"

"Screw your clothes, come on."

"Well, okay..." Christine hesitated, then jumped in, to a round of hoots from Michael. "It's _cold!_ " Her voice was a squeak.

"Tell me about it, I was shoved in here against my will."

They were in the water until the three of them were pruned and exhausted, clumped up together on the bank with dripping clothes and goosebumped skin. Jeremy glanced up at the moon, almost completely full, but not quite. Just a few more days.

A few more days, and the future would be bright again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get high talk about squip dick


	4. Chapter 4

Jeremy lingered in the doorway of the room, too afraid to enter, but not exactly willing to leave. Squip was there, on the bed, still asleep, looking peaceful as ever. He didn't really know what to do with himself. He'd already walked the entire length of the property five times, reorganized his room, and sat around on a couch with Michael and Christine, watching whatever was on. What if something was wrong? What if Squip didn't wake up? The worry knotted in his stomach, leaving behind the distinct sensation that he'd been punched in the gut a few times.

-Squip?-

He waited, but there was no answer. There was never an answer. There hadn't been an answer for over a year. Jeremy felt really stupid just standing here talking to himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. Alex walked past him and Jeremy barely acknowledged him. Then Alex paused, taking a few steps backward to stand at his side, hand on his shoulder.

"You look like you could use a distraction."

Jeremy glanced at him, frowning.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Come on." Alex grabbed his arm and tugged him out of the doorway, back toward the front of the house, and forced Jeremy down onto the couch. "Wait here."

He disappeared back down the hallway and Jeremy just stared at the black TV screen, idly wondering where Christine and Michael had gone. He could hear Linda fussing around in the kitchen, probably cleaning. They'd been tiptoeing around each other for the past couple of days, barely speaking, barely making eye contact. It was weird, and stressful, and Jeremy still couldn't decide if he was mad or not. Thinking about it just made him feel exhausted. There were too many questions and not enough space in his brain to manage it all. After a few minutes Alex returned, arms full of cords and what looked like an old, beat up GameCube and a handful of games. He sat himself down in front of the TV, dumping everything into a heap at his feet.

"Picked this baby up at a garage sale for five dollars." Alex sounded like this was one of the greatest achievements of his life. He fussed around with the wires for a while, sticking them into the appropriate ports, then loaded up a game and handed a controller to Jeremy. The familiar and nostalgic tune for Mario Kart drifted out over the TV speakers; he let Alex set everything up. "So," Alex said after a minute, not looking at him, "got any questions for me?"

"I..." Jeremy started, reflexively tapping the controller buttons. "I don't know."

"I'll just talk, then." Alex was already an entire lap ahead of him, but Jeremy was a bit rusty. He'd never owned a GameCube; he only ever played on Michael's. "I know you're probably all worked up and everything, but your squip is fine. Would've been a good waste of a year if we brought you down here for it not to work right." Jeremy didn't know if that made him feel better or not. He threw a banana and hoped Alex would run into it. "I checked everything myself."

"So, you're..."

"Yep," Alex smiled. "Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor, born and raised." He expertly skirted around Jeremy's banana peel. "Well, not exactly raised. Just created. Unlike your squip, though, I was intentionally made to have a body separate from my host. Part of a whole new experimental thing. Linda was the guinea pig chosen out of her team. They thought she'd be the most compatible."

"And she wasn't actually a divorce lawyer." Jeremy aggressively smashed some of the buttons.

"Nope. That was just the cover." Alex was glancing at him. "Enough about that, though. Let's see, uh. Yeah, so, your squip's new body should seem completely fleshy and organic to anyone not in the know. We'll be doing some testing once he wakes up just to make sure it's all wired up correctly. Reflexes, pain receptors, stuff like that. They have to sleep, of course, which is sort of like occasionally restarting your phone. And he won't need to eat, either. I mean, he _can_ , it makes it look more believable when you're in public, but some of them don't enjoy it. I think eating's great."

"There are more of you?" Jeremy almost drove himself off a cliff.

"Yeah, yeah. Your squip and I aren't the only ones." Alex leaned back, watching his kart go flying across the screen after getting shot out of a cannon. "There isn't a lot, but there's a handful of us all over the world. We don't really keep in contact, though."

"Why not?"

"We can discuss that part later." Jeremy wanted to protest, but Alex cut him off. "You have enough on your plate already."

"Sure. Yeah." That just added a whole additional page of questions to his growing list. Maybe he should be writing this shit down.

"You're going to have to name him when he wakes up."

"Oh, yeah, you, uh. I think you mentioned that, uh, before..." When Alex had broken into their hotel room back in Atlantic City, he'd said something along those lines. Jeremy had completely forgotten about it.

"Mmhm. You all can't just go around and keep calling him _the squip_. It's weird. Gets people's attention. You don't want attention, so pick something you like. Your squip will do the rest."

"Huh." Jeremy looked down at his controller. Name them? It felt weird having to call Squip anything else... Alex had paused the game and was staring at him, now. Jeremy shrank back a little, self-conscious.

"You're probably mad about everything that happened, and I get that. Seriously. You and your squip couldn't know what was going on or it would've influenced the reprogramming. Everything had to happen organically so your squip could become self-aware and shut down. I honestly didn't think it'd work, but Linda believed you'd bond with it properly, and here we are."

"Cool." It wasn't really cool. It sucked. All of it sucked. He never wanted to be part of some crazy experiment to create a fully sentient AI. He'd just wanted... "You're, you know, not very squip-like. How'd it work with, you know, my mom and you?"

Alex considered his question for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"Well, it wasn't _nearly_ as dramatic as it was with you, because I was made this way. Your squip had to accept the new code and successfully rewrite it. Me? It was more just... developing a personality. All squips kind of start out the same, because we're all based on the same template, and then we're influenced by what our host needs. Linda has anxiety problems out the wazoo. You think you're bad? You got it all from her. Genetically predispositioned to freak out about anything and everything." Alex looked, and sounded, amused. "So now I'm her anxiety filter. I keep her calm. It's my job to worry so she doesn't have to. Not that it's a perfect system, because she _loves_ to worry."

"Okay, but..." Alex kept talking, interrupting him.

"Romantic relationships with squips and their hosts don't happen too often, so we get all kinds of new and interesting data from you two. It's fascinating. Linda's thrilled. I'm kind of impressed. Me and her, though, we've just got this mother-son thing going on and--" Alex paused, frowning, watching Jeremy as he froze in his spot, shoulders hunched. Alex looked a little alarmed. "Not that, I mean, she wasn't replacing you or anything, that's not--"

"Alex, that’s enough." Linda had appeared behind them. Had she just been there the whole time, listening? Jeremy slowly turned to look at her.

"What the fuck. What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" He didn't know where the anger came from. It just appeared, like something just snapped in his brain, white-hot heat, boiling his blood and making his ears ring. She was just _standing_ there, not saying anything. He should be getting this information from _her_ , not Alex. "You're a shitty mom."

Alex leaned over and grabbed his shoulder. He was squeezing, hard, enough to hurt, eyes narrowed.

"Back off, Jeremy."

"I'm going to deal with this, not you." Linda crossed her arms, staring pointedly at Alex. He frowned, then let Jeremy go, grabbing his controller and slinking off to the other side of the room, staring dejectedly at the TV screen as he unpaused the game. Jeremy had to stand up; he was jittery all over and his hands were shaking. "It's okay to be angry, Jer--"

"Angry? I'm-- _I'm--_ No _shit._ You just leave one day and you don't call, you don't e-mail, just _go_ and then you show up and I find out you have some kind of _robot son_. Am I-- Were dad and I just your _cover_? Did you ever really care?"

"Of-- of course I care. I loved you, and your father. I still do."

"Does dad even _know_?" Jeremy seethed. "Does he? Huh? Does he know where you are, or-- or what you do. What you've _been_ doing? That you used your _real_ son for a crazy science experiment?"

Linda didn't answer. She just stood there, breathing a little rapidly, wringing her hands.

"Do you care about how much this shit fucked me up?" Jeremy wanted to scream, to hit something, but his feet wouldn't move and his voice was shaking pathetically. He hated being angry.

"Leaving was the only way to protect you."

"Pro-- _protect_ me? Really? Where... Where were you when I was getting bullied, or, or, when I was so desperate I blew $400 on a miracle pill to try to make things better, and I had to deal with _dad_ by _myself_ and he wouldn't even get dressed. And I _hated_ myself. Oh my God." He pressed his hands to his face, taking big, gulping breaths. "You're not even going to explain yourself?"

There was silence in the room. All he could hear was the stupid god damn Mario Kart game and his own breathing. He dropped his hands to look at his mom, still standing there, not saying anything, but she was crying now, and fuck, he was crying, too, tears hot and angry. Jeremy threw his hands up in the air.

"Fine. Fuck you!" If she wasn't going to say anything, he wasn't going to keep standing here and looking at her. Jeremy stomped off, to his room, feeling small and miserable and like he was twelve years old, having his first real pre-teen hormone-fueled argument with his parents. He hated it. He hated _this_. He didn't want to be alone but he didn't know where Michael and Christine had gone, and the only other person awake in the house was _Alex_. That was definitely the absolute last person he wanted to talk to right now.

Jeremy slowly sat down on the bed, feeling shaky and exhausted, wanting the day to be over already so he didn't have to deal with it anymore.

_Jeremy._

The voice in his head startled him so much he nearly jumped off the bed and onto the floor. _That voice._ He hadn't imagined it. He definitely hadn't imagined he. He responded tentatively.

-Squip? You... You're awake?-

_Your emotional outburst woke me up. Where are you?_

He didn't respond. His feet were moving without even thinking about it, walking quickly out of his room and down the hall, to Squip's room, and he flung open the door with a little more force than necessary. Squip looked at him from the bed, looking a little sleepy, but awake. He held out a hand toward him, smiling a little.

"You're going to just stand there?"

Jeremy kicked the door closed and walked over to the bed, climbing on top of the covers and staring at Squip, gently taking his hand, blinking a few times. He was awake now. _Awake awake awake._ Squip lightly squeezed his hand.

"I can't say this was an outcome I predicted at all." Squip rubbed circles into the back of Jeremy's hand with his thumb. "But it's a pleasant surprise."

"Y-yeah. Definitely a surprise." He'd had so much he'd wanted to say when Squip woke up, but it'd all just disappeared out of his head, leaving him with nothing. All he could do was stare. He could hear Squip chuckle softly. The sound gave him goosebumps.

"You can move closer, Jeremy. You aren't going to break me."

"Right. Okay." Jeremy swallowed, shifting from the very edge of the bed closer to Squip, still holding his hand, until he was practically in their lap. He smiled weakly. "I... I guess, um. We can still communicate. In our heads. Telepathically. Like X-Men. That's... cool."

Squip smiled a little more, leaning in.

"Yes." He pressed a kiss to Jeremy's forehead.

_Just like in X-Men._

Jeremy shuddered, pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around Squip, clutching the back of his shirt, hugging him tight. Squip responded by pressing his face into his neck, one hand in his hair, the other wrapped loosely around his hip. It was different. Of course it felt different; Squip had only ever been in his head before, but now he was physically here and it was both new and familiar at the same time. Jeremy didn't think he'd ever be able to let go.

-I missed you I missed you I missed you-

He said it in his head, over and over, unable to think of anything else to say. He could feel Squip's warm breath against his skin and his fingers moved featherlight down his spine. They just stayed like that, not saying anything else, Jeremy clinging desperately to Squip's shirt, until he started to relax, no longer angry or upset or hurt and confused, just relieved. Squip's grip on him loosened slowly and his breath slowed, and Jeremy realized, with disappointment, that he'd fallen back asleep.

Guess he wasn't done with the whole charging thing yet.

Jeremy let go and pulled away, letting Squip rest back against the pillows, and left the room, only giving him a last quick glance before closing the door.

-Wake up again soon.-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linda won't be getting a Best Mom Ever mug anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Jeremy didn't find out until after dinner where Michael and Christine had gone. Alex had sent the both of them on an errand to the convenience store a mile or two down the dirt road, and made them walk, which kept them out of the house for a few hours. Jeremy stayed holed up in his room, staring out the window as the sun slowly dipped lower and lower, and didn't talk to anyone until the dishes were clean and Alex put on some kind of movie.

Michael listened, blank-faced, as Jeremy tried to explain his earlier blow up.

"What a dick." 

Jeremy almost laughed at the seriousness in Michael's voice. His anger had dissipated to almost nothing, just a simmering heat in the pit of his stomach now, but he wasn't willing to try and reopen the conversation with Linda again. He figured he'd give her the opportunity to come to him if she actually wanted to try and explain herself.

They got up to go to bed, Jeremy still desperately wishing Squip would hurry and wake up already. He was going to hang out in Michael's room until he was actually tired enough to sleep, but Michael was still lingering by the couch. 

"Hey, Alex."

Alex was busy picking up empty bowls that previously held popcorn. He glanced over in Michael's direction, all smiles.

"What's up?"

And then, to Jeremy and Christine's extreme surprise, Michael hit Alex across the face with his fist. Alex seemed completely caught off guard, dropping the metal bowls and spilling unpopped kernels everywhere, stumbling back. He didn't say anything, just stared, gingerly prodding his cheek; he looked faintly amused, a little surprised, maybe, even, a bit aroused.

“Hit me again.”

“What? No.”

“Please?”

Michael left the room after that.

* * *

Jeremy had never seen Michael actually hit someone before, or even threaten to hit someone, and it completely surprised him. He was curled up on the floor of Michael's room, sharing a blanket with Christine, propped up against a wall. Michael carefully flexed and unflexed his hand, wincing. It was bruised and slightly swollen.

"You might want to put frozen peas on that or something." Christine peered carefully at Michael’s hand, grimacing a little bit. 

"Why peas?"

"That's what my dad always used."

“Your dad regularly punched things?”

“No, but I _do_ have two older brothers…”

"I can't believe I did that." Michael carefully dropped his head back against the wall and removed his glasses with his non-busted hand.

"Dude, _I_ can't believe you did that. I've known you for like, fifteen years. What happened?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't know, I felt like I had to defend your honor or something."

"My honor?" Jeremy cracked a smile. "Well, thanks, I guess."

The conversation came to a quiet lull, the clock on the wall softly ticking the hour away. They camped out on the floor the whole night, talking quietly until dawn, when Jeremy finally managed to fall asleep.

* * *

"I guess I'm supposed to name you now."

Squip was awake. Fully awake, not just for a few minutes, but completely. Jeremy still couldn't believe it.

"Name me?"

"Yeah. That's what, uh, Alex said to do. When you woke up. So..."

"Of course." Squip lounged back on the bed, legs crossed. Jeremy wanted to touch him, but he couldn't bring himself to. "That's a sensible thing to do."

"Right." Jeremy rubbed the back of his head. 

"You've picked something, haven't you?"

"Well, I mean, I don't know..."

"You've had days to figure it out. You have to have _something_ , Jeremy." Squip crossed his arms, watching him expectantly. Now in the spotlight, Jeremy's mind went blank.

"S... Sq... Squid?"

"No."

"Okay, then, um. Sssssal?"

"Short for Salvador?"

"I guess?"

"Mmm. No. Anything else?" 

Jeremy huffed. This was a lot of pressure.

"John."

"No."

"Why not!?"

Squip shrugged. "I don't like it."

"You seriously can't be this picky."

"Of course I can. It's my name, after all."

Jeremy scrubbed at his face irritably. Giving things names was easier when they were inanimate objects that didn't talk back and criticize your life choices. 

"What about, uh... Peter?"

"Let's stick with names that begin with 'S'."

Jeremy frowned, fixing Squip with narrowed eyes.

"Squipward."

"Now you aren't even trying."

" _Augh_." Jeremy huffed, looking up at the ceiling. There had to be _something_ that Squip would like. Something with meaning, maybe? Instead of just pulling names from the top of his head. But _what_? He tapped his foot, thinking, thinking... When he was a kid, there was an Italian place his parents used to take him to all the time. It was his favorite. They had fantastic lasagna. "What about Sergio?"

"After a restaurant?" Squip didn't sound thrilled with that suggestion, either. Jeremy frowned a little more, dropping his shoulders. He couldn't think of anything else, and this was getting frustrating. After a moment he heard Squip sigh quietly and he leaned forward, dropping a hand on top of his head. "If you like it, then I guess I can't complain."

"Well, what if... Do you want to name yourself?"

"Me?"

"Uh, yeah, like you said. It's _your_ name. You should pick it."

"Huh." Squip sat up a little straighter, tapping his chin. "You're right. I should." Two minutes passed and Jeremy was still standing there, feeling a little awkward. Should he sit down? Should he leave and come back? How long was this going to take? Judging by Squip's expression, he was actually giving this serious thought. Which made sense, really. If Jeremy had to rename himself he wouldn't want to pick something willy-nilly... probably. "How about...Yes. I like Silas."

"Silas? Why Silas?"

It looked like Squip was actually pouting. 

"You don't like it?"

"N-no! That's not what I meant. I'm just, you know... curious." Jeremy eyed him, smiling a little nervously, and Squip just shrugged.

"It appeals to me."

"I guess that's a pretty good reason." Jeremy hesitated, then moved over to the bed, taking a seat next to Squip. His hand was almost touching theirs and he quickly moved it away. Why was he so nervous? What was wrong with him? "...Silas."

"Yes."

"Weird."

"Why weird?"

"I don't know. I'm just. Used to calling you Squip, I guess." Jeremy looked down at his lap.

"You can call me whatever you want in private, Jeremy. I don't really mind." Their knees were touching. It looked intentional. Jeremy scooted away, trying to seem subtle about it, but he felt a twinge of guilt. Squip didn't move at all.

"Cool. I'll just, you know. Introduce you to everyone as Silas and we'll go from there, I guess."

"You guess." Squip was smiling at him. Jeremy felt his face getting red and he averted his eyes. "Dinner will be interesting."

* * *

Squip declined to eat anything. He was the only one at the table without a plate. Jeremy kept forgetting that he didn't actually need to eat anything and swallowed the nagging response to tell him to at least try something. Getting Squip to eat wasn't what this meal was about, anyway. It was "officially" introducing him to everyone. Jeremy was a little hunched over in his seat, but Squip looked completely at ease next to him. 

"So. Uh. Guys." Jeremy nervously picked his bread roll apart. "This is... His name is Silas. My, you know. My squip?" Wow. What kind of introduction was that? It was even worse than when he introduced Christine to his dad the first time. Jeremy stuffed half the roll in his mouth and looked down at his plate.

"Silas. _Nice._ Who picked that one?" Alex leaned forward with his elbows on the table, grinning. 

"I did," Squip responded coolly.

"Welcome to the family, Silas." Linda was smiling, full and big, a smile Jeremy hadn't seen in years. He stuffed the rest of his roll into his mouth and swallowed how uncomfortable he felt. 

"Are you the one I should be thanking for this?"

"Oh, no, you don't need to thank me. I was only doing my job. Speaking of which, tomorrow morning we need to run some tests. I'm sure Alex filled you in on the details, already."

"He did, yes."

"Hey, Silas, you going to eat anything?" Alex was still grinning so widely Jeremy wondered if his face hurt. 

"No."

"Y'sure? You're really missing out on a whole new experience."

"I'm not interested."

"Fair enough." Alex shrugged a little and leaned back in his seat.

"It's really nice to meet you, Silas." Christine smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Christine." Squip took her hand and gave it a firm shake, a small smile on his lips.

"Yes, I know."

"Oh, well, I guess we _technically_ met already. At the play and everything? And you've been in Jeremy's head so of course, you know who I am, but I thought it'd be rude without a proper introduction, you know?"

"Of course." Squip winked a little, and Jeremy suppressed a smile. Then Squip's eyes flicked over to Michael and things got a little quiet. Jeremy couldn't really read Michael's face. "Michael."

"'Silas', huh." Michael pressed his lips together, eyes narrowed, then slowly extended a hand out towards him. Squip looked surprised for a moment, but he took it. They locked eyes, shook hands, then pulled away. 

"You should really consider applying a cold compress to that hand of yours. Have you tried a bag of frozen peas?"

"See? I'm not the only one." Christine smiled in mild triumph while Michael made a face.

"What's with you people and frozen vegetables?"

“It’s multipurpose. You have something to snack on if you get hungry.”

“I like this girl.” Alex rested his elbows on the table, grinning at Christine. 

Jeremy leaned back in his seat, idly picking at his food, quiet.

-What was that about?-

Jeremy stabbed at the salad on his plate, trying not to look too amused, for Michael's sake.

_We were getting reacquainted, that's all._

-Hah.-

He smiled a little more, glancing down at his lap when Squip rested a hand on his knee. He moved his leg away and tried to ignore the slightly confused falter to Squip's smile. He didn't try touching Jeremy again the rest of dinner.

* * *

The rest of the week whizzed by at an extremely fast pace, at least for Jeremy. He'd take his breakfast down to the basement every morning and watch either Alex or Linda poke and prod at Squip for an hour or two. Sometimes Christine and Michael tagged along. They hooked Squip up to a machine and Jeremy had no idea what the words it spit out even meant. Alex spoke to Squip in what sounded like five different languages at once and Squip responded back in turn, which was honestly pretty impressive, considering Jeremy really didn't know anything except some basic Hebrew. At one point his mom stuck a syringe into the crook of Squip's arm, a needle big and long like something out of a horror movie, and removed what looked like blood at first, then turned into a viscous green liquid. He had to look away.

_Squeamish, Jeremy?_

-I can't stand needles.-

_I know. It doesn't hurt._

-What is she doing, anyway?-

_In layman's terms, she's checking the purity of my "blood" to make sure my body isn't breaking down anywhere._

-Your blood is green?-

_Yes, but the fluid under the skin is dyed red for believability. I'd have to be injured severely for the green to appear._

-That's kind of cool, I guess.-

They didn't talk much outside the morning examination and Jeremy felt bad about it. Really bad. He still had so much he wanted to say, to do, but it all got stuck in his throat and he felt like he was choking on it. Then Squip would touch him, and for no sensible reason at all, he'd panic and pull away. Jeremy didn't know why he was like this, but he ignored the guilt and continued to pretend he didn't notice Squip's growing agitation. They didn't bring it up and Jeremy didn't say anything, either. The only real serious talk they had was about his mom.

"You need to talk to her."

"I know." Jeremy fussed with smoothing out the sheets on the bed. "I'm just... not ready yet."

"I don't think you ever will be, considering."

Jeremy huffed, tugging a little harder on the sheet. All he managed to do was wrinkle it more on the other side. He scowled and sat down on top of it instead.

"She should be coming to _me_."

"It's entirely possible she believes you don't want her to." Squip crossed his arms. 

"That's stupid. Of course, I want her to. I want to know what the hell is going on." He'd made peace with the fact that she had to leave for his personal safety or whatever, but considering everything that happened _after_ she left? Jeremy was having trouble trying to understand the purpose of it all. She had a squip before he did, sure, but then his squip reactivated and for some reason that meant Alex had to show up and use him as a guinea pig? None of it made any sense. 

It resulted in Squip ending up with an actual body after he thought he was dead, but still...

"Tell her that."

"I will." Jeremy glanced down at a frayed hem of the sheet and tugged at it a little, wrapping the stray thread around his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Squip reach out a hand toward him, hesitate, then drop the hand in his lap. His stomach clenched uneasily. What was the point of all this if he couldn't stand the Squip touching him anymore? "I'm... gonna go to bed."

"Goodnight, Jeremy." He was frowning, as if he wanted to say something else, but decided not to.

Jeremy looked back at Squip and tried to pull out a genuine smile. He didn't really know if he succeeded.

"Night."

He escaped the room and closed the door behind him, careful to avoid looking at Squip's face, feeling like it was suddenly harder to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My vote was on Squipward.


	6. Chapter 6

There was an old shed out back. Looking for something to do, they'd decided to investigate it, praying it wasn't infested with spiders or snakes. Luckily, there weren't any snakes... but there _were_ spiders. Alex and Squip de-spidered the shed, and after that Christine was the only one brave enough to actually venture inside. There wasn't a whole lot. Some old clay pots filled with dried out, crumbly dirt. A pile of ancient board games, their boxes faded and worn and falling apart from exposure to the elements. A shoe with the pair missing. A stack of soggy newspapers. The only thing worth their time was a metal box shoved underneath a shelf. 

Christine was determined to get it out, and after some elbow grease, she actually managed to drag it outside for a closer look. The box was clamped shut, but opening it revealed a bright pink karaoke machine, complete with microphone. The screen was dingy and a little cracked and it looked like a knob was missing, but it was otherwise intact and in good condition.

"Oh _wow_." Christine fiddled with one of the buttons. "You think it still works?"

"Dunno." Alex squatted down next to her, tapping the pink plastic. "I could check it out. It definitely needs new batteries, though."

"Who did this shed even belong to?" Michael glanced inside the dusty, dimly lit interior. Alex only shrugged.

"It was here when we bought the property. The property was vacant for years."

"So it could be a haunted karaoke machine."

"Oooh, spooky, abandoned karaoke machine in the old spider-infested shed. I'm getting serious Evil Dead vibes." Jeremy grinned cheekily in Michael's direction, and Michael playfully shoved his shoulder. He turned around to get Squip's input, but he was gone, disappearing back in the house. Jeremy frowned as the screen door swung shut.

"Come on, guys, I wanna test it out." Christine picked up the machine, box and all, carefully balancing it in her arms as she walked toward the house. 

Alex did as he'd promised and fussed around with the machine for a while until it came to life, music a little tinny and distorted, the screen a little hard to read, but it worked. Jeremy was leaning back into the couch cushions, watching as Christine jumped up over to the machine and grabbed the microphone. Squip appeared out of nowhere and settled in beside him, arm hanging over the back of the couch but not touching him. Jeremy gave him a weak smile.

-Where'd you go?-

_I asked Linda for batteries._

-Oh.-

Christine and Michael were both oogling the machine now.

"I don't think there's anything newer than 2003 on this thing." Michael squinted, trying to clean off a smudge on the screen with his thumb. 

"Ooh, throwbacks. That's fun."

"What're you singing?" 

"Oh my god, look, _that one_. A Thousand Miles." Michael hit the Accept button and handed Christine the pink microphone. " _Yes_! Everyone prepare to be _amazed_. This was my _song_ when I was five." The familiar piano keys floated out of the speakers, a little loud for such a small and old machine. Christine grinned her way through the song, knowing every word by heart, and Jeremy almost forgot how close Squip was sitting next to him. Still not touching, but close enough.

Michael went next, then Christine again, and eventually Alex. Karaoke, and singing for that matter, had never been his thing, so Jeremy stayed on the couch, content to just sit back and watch the show. And then Christine shoved the microphone in his hand. 

"Your turn."

"What-- No, I-- This isn't really-- I can't even sing." Jeremy grimaced slightly at the microphone. 

"Don't worry, we’re singing with you."

Michael fiddled with the dial, grinning to himself. "Look, Jeremy, I know this isn't your thing, but it's Whitney Houston. You _have_ to." 

"Jesus Christ." Jeremy glanced helplessly at Michael and the stupid grin on his face, then risked a look at Squip, still on the couch. He was smiling at him, an extremely entertained tug at the corner of his mouth, and Jeremy felt a million times more self-conscious than before. It wasn't even as if he was in front of a bunch of strangers, what the hell. 

_No one is going to judge you, Jeremy._

"Jeremy, if you don't sing this with Christine and me, I'm going to judge you forever." Michael turned up the volume on the speakers.

_Oh, I'm sorry. I guess Michael is judging. My bad._

"Fuck. Uh." He was holding the microphone away from his face as if it smelled bad. He didn't even know the words, really, he was just familiar with the verse. It didn't matter, though. That's what the words were for, right? Michael and Christine were singing with him, what was he being all weird about it for, anyway? Jeremy took a breath and stumbled his way through the intro, had trouble keeping up until the signature line _I wanna dance with somebody_ , and the rest of the song was mostly a wash, because it turned out no one else knew the lyrics that well, either. Not that it mattered. By the end Michael was making faces and waggling his eyebrows, Christine had stolen the microphone and was pretending to be an incredibly overzealous popstar, and all three of them were giggling too hard to actually sing anymore, except maybe to wheeze out a few more lines. 

Alex clapped enthusiastically from his seat.

"Encore, encore!"

"Please god, no." Jeremy staggered back to the couch, trying to catch his breath, eyes damp from the tears forming in the corners. 

"Come on, please? I forgot to record it."

"Alex, sing something else. I'll record it for you." Christine pulled out her phone. 

"Sorry, no video of me allowed..."

Squip leaned over, his and Jeremy's hips already touching, and he nuzzled playfully into his hair, murmuring in his ear.

"I'm very impressed, Jeremy."

Jeremy stiffened a little, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“Y-yeah.”

“Your mood has been improving steadily all week. This kind of activity is good for you. You should do it more often.” Squip pressed a small kiss against his temple and Jeremy abruptly pulled away. He didn’t know why. He just… He couldn’t… Jeremy sat back down, leaving a nice valley of space between the both of them. Squip blinked at him a few times, brows furrowed, then sat back.

“I’ll, um. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Michael and Alex were having some kind of argument over the next song, not seriously, it was almost playful, and Jeremy couldn’t remember exactly when they’d started getting along. Christine was messing with the settings on the microphone, creating a loud buzzing noise on and off. Linda was making tea; he could hear the kettle whistling, louder and louder, and Jeremy was too afraid to move or look back over at Squip.

Then Squip stood up, stepping away from the couch.

“Silas? Did you want to sing something?” Christine flicked the microphone off and held it toward him, but he pushed it away.

“No. Excuse me.” He turned and stalked down the hall. Jeremy didn’t look, but he could hear Squip’s bedroom door quickly open and shut.

Jeremy’s ears were burning. Shit, was this his fault? Did his weirdness cause Squip to leave? Christine was looking at the hallway, then fixed her eyes on Jeremy. He wished she wouldn’t.

“Is… he okay?”

Jeremy shrugged. Alex had gone silent, and from where Jeremy was sitting it looked like he was staring at Squip’s door, a sympathetic look on his face. Alex glanced at him.

“Rough first week, huh?”

Jeremy licked his lips and stood up.

“I’ll, uh, be right back.” Shoulders hunched, he retreated to the corridor, scurrying up to Squip’s door and hesitating to knock. Should he knock? Should he not knock? Should he leave him alone? Was he mad? Jeremy decided against knocking and just carefully opened the door. 

“Uh. Squip?”

Squip was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked tired. Jeremy edged his way into the room and shut the door behind him, leaning against it. Squip finally looked up, dropping his hands in his lap, expression neutral, but sitting hunched over.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy wasn’t used to seeing Squip look like that. Vulnerable. Worn out. Granted, he wasn’t used to Squip having a physical body that could interact with outside things, but this was a different level. It made him feel worse than he already did about avoiding him. 

“I… I think we need to talk.”

“Yes.” Squip leaned back a little. “We do.”

Jeremy stepped into the room a little more, until finally, finally, he sat down next to Squip. He stared down at his knees.

"So. Um. Are you... okay?"

Squip clenched his hands a little, sighed, then uncurled his fingers.

"I was feeling... overwhelmed. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jeremy swung his legs, back and forth. "You don't need to apologize for that." He looked up to find Squip was staring down at him intensely, blue eyes bright and burning. Jeremy swallowed. "This is, you know. New for you, I guess."

"It is." Squip scowled down at his shirt. "Everything is very... intense. How do you stand wearing clothes every day? I can feel every fiber scraping at my skin any time I move. It's all so noisy, too. Distracting. No wonder humans are such a disaster."

Jeremy laughed a little. "You kinda, uh. Get used to it. I guess? I don't remember how I felt about things when I was a baby. Maybe that's why they cry a lot."

"It's miserable. I'm sorry I was so hard on you." Squip frowned a little more, fussing with the collar of his shirt.

"You... You're miserable?"

"No." Squip leaned back furthur, propping himself up on his elbows. "I'm getting used to it. It's a lot to take in, but... I'm happy to be here with you." Squip's hand gently grazed Jeremy's and he pulled it back reflexively. He regretted it immediately; Squip sighed and sat back up. "You're upset with me."

"No! N-no, I'm not." Jeremy could tell by Squip's expression that he wasn't convinced. "I mean, you... You know what I'm thinking, right?"

"I don't." That caught Jeremy completely by surprise. "I don't know what you're thinking anymore, it's quite frustrating. It seems our new circumstances have granted you a bit of privacy in that regard. I can only guess what you're thinking based on what you're feeling."

"Oh." Jeremy mulled that over for a moment.

"Yes. _Oh._ "

"I'm not upset with you."

"No? I don't know what else _this_ ," he gestured to the space around them, "is, then. You won't talk to me. Your anxiety spikes any time I touch you. I don't understand."

"Sorry." Jeremy squeezed his hands between his knees. "I..." Shit. How does he even explain this? "I'm not mad. It's just... new. You were gone and I was just starting to get my life together and then my _mother_ shows up and suddenly you're here? _Really_ here and it's weird. I don't want it to be weird, but it is."

"You're right. It is weird." Squip picked delicately at his pants. Jeremy watched his fingers.

"I-I missed you. And I was mad that you left but I know why you did and this is better, but what if... What if you..."

"Jeremy." Squip gently tapped his nose. "You're thinking too far ahead again. It's a bad habit; we need to work on that."

"Heh. Yeah. Right." Squip pulled his hand away, but Jeremy reached out and grabbed it, squeezing. Squip squeezed it in return. It got quiet. He couldn't hear any more karaoke music through the door.

"Your hand is warm." Squip was finally smiling a little and Jeremy felt relieved to see it. "It's nice."

"Yeah?" Jeremy watched as Squip gently traced his thumb down his wrist, over the pulse.

"It was nice before, but now it's even more pleasant." Squip eyed him and Jeremy blushed a little.

"Sure. I guess it helps that you're not, you know, just a figment in my head anymore."

"Hmm." Squip hummed quietly, tracing his fingers up and down Jeremy's arm. It tingled pleasantly.

Jeremy enjoyed the quiet, the way Squip’s deft fingers caressed his skin, the tender look on his face. What had he been so hung up about, anyway? He’d been afraid, and of what, he wasn’t sure. That they’d suddenly disappear again, if he allowed Squip to touch him? But here they were, together, alone, something Jeremy had believed a short week ago would never be the case again, and everything was fine. The world wasn’t ending. Squip was solid. Real. Not dissolving into nothingness. 

Feeling a little braver, Jeremy shifted from his spot and relocated himself into Squip’s lap, then wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into a firm hug. Squip seemed to hesitate, but he slowly reciprocated, arms snug and secure. Jeremy practically melted into it, eyes closed. They stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, Jeremy unwilling to move even when it became a little uncomfortable and warm. It reminded him a little of Alex; he’d felt like a furnace that one time, too.

“Why are you so warm?” 

“My body generates a lot of heat. Is it bothering you?”

“No…” He nuzzled into Squip’s shoulder a little, smiling at the soft noise Squip made in return. “It’ll definitely be nice in the winter.”

“Of course.” Squip’s lips were against his temple and he could feel them smile. The heat was nice. Comforting. He wanted to feel more of it, against his skin. Jeremy’s confidence only grew with the way Squip brushed his perfect mouth down his face and across his ear. He moved his arms from around Squip’s shoulders and dropped them around his waist, then slipped his hands up his shirt, palms pressed against his back. Squip sighed softly into his hair, almost a groan, their hands brushing up his sides.

He’d missed this. It was different, but familiar, and he’d missed it more than he thought he could stand.

Squip was trembling. Jeremy could feel it, lightly, under his fingertips, a faint tremor beneath the skin, increasing to an obvious shiver whenever Jeremy’s hands moved to caress a different part of his back. He frowned a little, pulling his hands away, leaning back.

“What’s—” But when he tried to move any further, Squip’s arms wrapped around him tighter, pulling him back in. Jeremy blinked a few times, confused.

“I’m…” Squip started, voice low, uncertain. “It’s nice. Don’t go yet.” 

He’d said everything was super intense, right? Even just touching him probably felt like a lot, and Jeremy wasn’t planning on going anywhere, either. He squirmed his way from Squip’s shoulder and nosed up to his jaw, kissing the stubble there. Jeremy wondered if it was permanently like that, or if Squip needed to shave and cut his hair like an actual person. A question for another time, probably. 

Then they were kissing. Gentle at first, Squip palming the back of his head and tickling his fingers lightly through his hair, and then a little more desperate. Needy. Jeremy sighed into the kiss, content to just stay like this, but Squip seemed to have other ideas. He loosened his grip just enough to tug off Jeremy’s shirt, and he just blushed and let him, flushing even more when Squip pulled off his own shirt and pulled them back against each other, chest to chest.

He stilled then, arms holding Jeremy firmly in place so he couldn’t escape, not that he would ever want to. And then he fell back against the sheets, pulling Jeremy with him, head resting comfortably against his chest. Jeremy could hear a heartbeat. He’d never noticed one before, but he hadn’t had a body before. It was steady and soothing.

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

Jeremy turned his head, straining his neck to stare up at Squip. 

“You thought I wouldn’t be?”

“You could have rejected me.”

“What? You’re crazy. I’d never do that.” Jeremy shimmied his way up, careful not to accidentally knee him somewhere sensitive, so they were nose-to-nose. “I missed you.”

Squip lifted a hand to cup his cheek. There was a somber look to his expression, enough to make Jeremy frown in response.

“Were you happy?”

“I… I mean-” Jeremy swallowed. “It took a while, but I guess, yeah. I bought these really terrible socks because it made me think of you, in a good way. It made me laugh.”

The look on Squip’s face lightened a little, the quiet sadness shifting into relief.

“Good.” They trailed a finger down the pulse in Jeremy’s neck, resting his hand over where Jeremy’s heart was. “I was afraid. To leave you. To… disappear.” He moved his fingers up along his collarbone. “I knew you’d be fine, but I never predicted this would happen.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy moved back down, resting his head back against Squip’s chest, focusing on the gentle _thump thump thump_ of his artificial heart. He loved the sound. “Just, you know. Don’t ever do it again.”

“I think I can promise that.” 

“Cool.”

Jeremy smiled to himself, relishing in the way Squip’s chest rose and fell when he breathed, the delicate way their hands felt against his skin, the soft thrumming in his ear, until all there was left were dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

The basement was a lot bigger than Jeremy originally thought. Every time he assumed he'd seen the full extent of it, there was another area, another room, and he wondered if it spanned the entire length of the property. They were in some big, open room now, and Jeremy was seated on the floor, sharing a pizza with Michael and Christine. It almost looked like his high school gymnasium, but without the basketball hoops or bleachers. It was relatively empty.

"Alright, Silas, what's your status today? Got your sensory issues under control yet?" Alex jabbed at the screen of the tablet in his hands.

"Yes, mainly."

"Great. We're doing something different today." Alex stuffed the tablet under his armpit and pointed to the far wall at the end of the room. "I want you to climb that wall."

Squip turned his head to look, eyebrows raised, then glanced back at Alex, not impressed.

"It's a flat surface. You can't expect me to climb that."

"Hey, you're smarter than that. Use your noodle. Figure it out." Alex grinned and Squip rolled his eyes, walking off.

"Very well."

-Good luck.-

_Don't patronize me, Jeremy._

-I'm not!-

Jeremy bit down on his slice of pizza, eyeing Alex as he made his way over. What was the point of all of this, anyway? Why couldn't they just go home yet? They’d been here for weeks.

"Not going to eat the crust?" Alex squatted down in front of them, eyes on Michael's plate. Michael never ate the pizza crust; Jeremy usually ate it for him. Before Michael could actually answer, Alex snatched the discarded crusts from the plate.

"Hey-"

"Got a complaint, Michael Mell?" Alex smiled, leaned in, watching Michael intensely, then pulled back when Michael gave him a tight-lipped frown. Michael looked away.

"Whatever. You can have it." Michael's hands fidgeted with the plate, then he reached over and grabbed another slice of pizza. Alex looked pleased as he stood up, chewing on the crust he'd just stuffed in his mouth.

"Good." He turned around. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

Michael's shoulders were tensed up around his ears, and he was eating his piece of pizza a little aggressively. Jeremy stared.

"What was that about?"

"It was nothing." Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Dude, that wasn't _nothing_. It was _weird_."

Michael was still fidgeting, looking uncomfortable.

"Isn't he always weird?"

"This was next level."

"He's been like that since I punched him. I don't know, what do you want from me? An analytical breakdown?"

"I think Alex was hitting on you." Christine looked between Alex and Michael a few times, a thoughtful look on her face. Michael groaned, hand pressed to his forehead.

"No. Don't say that. _Please_ don't say that."

"What? It's kind of cute in its own Alex-y way." Christine nudged Michael's shoulder.

"It's the exact opposite of what I need in my life." It was a little hard to tell, but it almost looked like Michael was _blushing._

"Ooooh-kay." Jeremy offered Michael a reassuring smile. "You want me to ask Squ-- Uh, Silas, about it?"

"No. Let's pretend it didn't happen."

"That never works."

"Jeremy. Please. C'mon."

"Alright. Ignore the weird. Got it."

"Guys, _look_." Christine elbowed Michael a few times, excitedly, looking at the other side of the room where Squip and Alex were. Squip was halfway up the wall, wedged in a corner of two walls, slowly pushing himself up with his feet, hands splayed out on both sides. "He's _Spider-Man_."

"No way!"

"Wow."

"You're doing great, Silas, I knew you'd figure it out!" Alex was calling up to Squip, raising a thumbs up in the air. Squip was either ignoring him or didn't notice.

-How the hell are you doing that? Do you have superpowers!?-

_I'm trying to concentrate, Jeremy._

-But it's _so cool_.-

_You could do this too, with the proper training, though you'd need a safety tether. My body doesn't get fatigued like yours, either._

-Okay, but how?-

Squip was almost at the top now and for a moment Jeremy wondered how the hell he was supposed to climb back down.

_This is what climbers call "stemming". You use oppositional force from your arms and legs to push up against the wall on either side and focus most of the energy in your feet._

-Like a ninja.-

_No._

-So how do you get down?-

_Good question._

"Now jump!" Alex stepped back a few feet, grinning up at Squip.

- _Jump_!? What, wait-

It was too late to actually protest. Jeremy nearly had a heart attack, grabbing onto Michael for dear life as Squip pushed himself away from the wall and plummeted down. Holy shit holy shit holy _shit_. But Squip landed on the ground, on his feet, with a loud _thud_ , crouched, and he was squeezing Michael's arm so tightly he was wincing. For a moment Squip didn't move and Jeremy feared the worst. He'd broken his legs, his back, _something_. He was dead. Fucking _dead_. All because of _Alex_. Then Squip stood, slowly.

_There's no reason to panic, Jeremy, I'm fine._

"What the _fuck_!"

"Holy shit, that was _awesome_." Christine had jumped on her feet, hand over her mouth, eyes wide, but she’d dropped her arm when Squip proved to be fine. She was practically bouncing. "Did you see that? How did he do that?"

"Perks of android bodies." Alex was patting Squip on the back as they walked back over to their side of the room. Jeremy's heart was still beating fast.

"Please don't ever do that again, oh my god."

"Androids don't take fall damage, huh." Michael looked up at Squip and was decidedly ignoring Alex.

"My legs are damaged, but nothing that won't heal in a few hours."

Jeremy's own legs hurt just thinking about it.

"So is that it for today or are you going to make him do more death-defying stunts?" Jeremy was praying that the answer was no.

"Not exactly, I've still got to test his physical strength and endurance. And maybe how fast he can think on his feet." Alex hopped back a bit. "Hit me."

Squip crossed his arms.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on. Don't just stand there, hit me."

Jeremy could hear Michael groan beside him.

"Don't do it. He'll keep hounding you to hit him more after," Michael muttered. Both Jeremy and Christine gave him a concerned look.

"Ignore him. Hit me, I'm wide open." Alex stretched out his arms, smiling wide. Squip made no move to do much of anything, just watched Alex with vague distaste. After a minute of silence, he frowned. "Come on, don't chicken out on me--"

Jeremy almost didn't see the movement, it was that fast. Squip struck out his fist, right at Alex's face, but just barely missed. Alex had moved his head out of the way just in time and took a quick step back, looking impressed. Squip, on the other hand, seemed disappointed.

"That's the spirit! Try again."

"What, you want him to fight you now?" Jeremy frowned. This was not the direction he thought the tests were going to go in, but what did he know about android bodies? Next to nothing. Alex ignored his question, though, leading Squip away from the rest of them. He was surprisingly light on his feet for someone who looked ao stocky and muscular. Then again, he didn't know anything about what body types were best suited for this kind of activity, either. Squip swung, and missed, again, and Jeremy could see Alex's smile from where he was sitting.

"Here's the deal, Silas. You need to knock me down. And anytime you miss a hit, I'll hit you, instead." True to his word, Alex threw his fist forward, a quick jab to the chest. Squip stumbled back, annoyed, and Jeremy winced. "Ideally, you want to _avoid_ that, so you don't take damage. The more damage you take, the harder it'll be to knock me down, got it?"

"What do I gain from this arrangement?"

"Satisfaction." Alex grinned, ducked when Squip threw another punch, and retaliated with an uppercut to the chin. Did Squip feel pain? Jeremy hoped not. "Actually, it's just practice. You're preprogrammed with the knowledge of how to fight, but it's entirely different when you actually do it yourself." Squip aimed lower this time, for Alex's stomach, but Alex leaned out of his reach, grabbed his elbow, then kicked him away. "You have to think fast. Calculate your opponents moves ahead of time, then accommodate for the weight of your body, wind resistance, how big or small they are compared to you. It's good practice; keeps you sharp."

It continued like that, Alex cheerfully encouraging Squip to try again, and again, and again. Jeremy couldn't read Squip's expression well, and after a while, he'd only got a few hits in on Alex, but he was better at dodging his counterpunches. Also, he was bleeding. Squip was definitely bleeding. Jeremy didn't know how he felt about that, but it wasn't a good feeling.

" _Oooh._ " Michael winced beside him, after a particularly brutal jab to Squip's gut. Christine was also looking unnerved.

-Are you okay?-

_I'm fine, Jeremy. You don't need to watch if it's bothering you._

-Your legs were already fucked up from earlier, right? This isn't fair, he has an advantage.-

 _I don't mind a challenge._

-Yeah but-

Alex smashed his fist into the side of Squip's head, sending him reeling back, almost falling over.

"Quit talking to your boyfriend and focus, man." Was Alex enjoying this? Jesus Christ. Jeremy squirmed at how gleeful Alex looked. "I'm trying not to damage your pretty face too much for Jeremy's sake, but come on already."

_That one definitely wasn't fair._

Jeremy had to watch the rest of the fight through his fingers. He'd always been a little squeamish about violence like this, and avoided boxing and wrestling because just watching made him anxious. Like now. He missed whatever Squip managed to do to get Alex on the ground, but according to Christine, he'd just straight up forwent the punching and took a dive at Alex's legs, causing them to both collapse. Jeremy felt Michael's hand on his shoulder.

"Well, I think it's finally over." Michael patted his back a few times and Jeremy risked a look over with a strained smile.

-You sure you're okay?-

_Yes._

"Nice one. Didn't see that coming." Alex rolled away from Squip and stood up. He looked hardly ruffled. "Ideally, we want to cut the time it took you in half. Get cleaned up."

Slowly, carefully, Squip stood, wiping at his bloodied nose.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." He took a few steps away from Alex and Jeremy stood up to meet him in the middle.

_Don't panic._

-Panic about what?-

Jeremy got his answer. Squip crumpled in front of him, falling on his hands and knees, and despite Squip's request, he immediately started to flip out.

"Shit! H-hey. Squip, _hey_. Oh my _God_ , is there supposed to be that green stuff coming out of your mouth? Alex? Alex!"

"Is he okay?" Christine hovered beside him. Alex joined her, frowning.

"Oh. I think I was a little too rough."

"You _think_!?" The green stuff was basically android blood, right? Squip was pretty much throwing it up, body tense, fingers curled into fists. _Fuck fuck fuck._

_I told you not to panic._

-You can't just tell me that and expect me to listen!-

"Alex, what the _hell_."

"He's fine, he's fine! He just needs to lay there for a few hours. Calm down."

"That's not _fine_." What definition of _fine_ was Alex using? Squip, no longer retching, fell over onto his side, eyes closed. Jeremy didn't know whether he should be touching him or not, hands hovering uselessly above him.

-Squip?-

_Go upstairs with Michael and Christine._

-But-

_I won't improve any faster with you sitting there. Go upstairs. I'll join you later._

-Promise?-

_Yes._

"Come on, lover boy. He'll sleep it off." Alex grabbed Jeremy from under his armpits and lifted him up, then all three of them were unceremoniously ushered out of the room. Jeremy tried to look back at Squip and the puddle of green fluid pooling around him, but Alex was blocking his view, mind racing, stomach clenching, really wishing he hadn't eaten all that pizza earlier.

* * *

Jeremy was staring at Squip's back, covered in dark bruises, a faded, brownish-yellow around the edges. Squip pulled his shirt fully off and gingerly tossed it aside.

"See? They're already healing. There's nothing to kick up a fuss about."

Jeremy didn't move from where he sat on the bed. He just frowned a little more deeply, chewing on his lip, when Squip turned around. There were more bruises along his stomach and chest, blooming up his neck, over his cheek. It wasn't a very good look.

"Okay, just because you have magical fast robot healing or whatever doesn't mean I have to like when you're fucked up."

Squip sighed, then winced. It was obvious even breathing was painful, but he kept playing it off like it wasn't a big deal.

"In two days it'll be like it never happened."

"I'd prefer it never to happen again."

"I'll try. Alex has had a body longer than me. He's fast; I feel like a slug compared to him." Squip carefully stepped over and slowly sat down next to him. Jeremy rested his head against Squip's shoulder, trying not to apply too much pressure.

"You don't need to pretend it doesn't suck."

"I'm not pretending. It _does_ suck." Squip eyed him. "But I can temporarily dull the pain."

"And when you can't?"

"Michael still has weed, doesn't he?"

Jeremy almost cracked a smile. "You want to get _high_? Seriously?"

"It'll help." Squip slowly lowered himself against the bed. Jeremy followed suit.

"I can't even imagine it. You're not going to, like, start speaking Japanese or something if you do, right?"

"Good question. I don't know." Squip looked over at him, a light, teasing smile on his face. "Are we sharing a bed now?"

"Uh--" Jeremy blinked a few times. "Are you trying to tell me you prefer your own room?"

"No, of course not." He pressed their foreheads together. 

“Good. Because, uh. I’m not going to leave. So.” Jeremy smiled, just a little, then moved to press a light kiss to Squip’s bruised cheek. “You’d have to physically remove me, and you don’t look like you can do that right now.” He hesitated, then proceeded to kiss the bruises along his jaw, slowly down his throat, across the ones on his chest. Squip made a soft sound and lifted a hand to rest his fingers against the back of Jeremy’s neck, touch light. It was so nice he could almost forget how awful earlier had been. 

“Jeremy.” Squip’s fingers trailed down his neck, along his collarbone, then up to his jaw. He cupped it and tilted Jeremy’s head back up. “I know you didn’t enjoy seeing me like that, but if I’m ever that badly damaged again, you can’t freak out.”

Jeremy pressed his lips together in a tight frown. “Easy for you to say.”

“Yes, _but_ ,” Squip pulled his hand back and rested a finger against his forehead. “The most important part of me is still in your brain. Even if my body is destroyed, I’ll still be there, just offline. If we’re ever in danger, you need to always put yourself first, no matter what.”

“Okay.” Jeremy frowned a little more, dropping his gaze. “What kind of danger do you think we’re going to get into, exactly?”

“It’s important to consider all possibilities.” 

“I guess.” He moved away, flopping onto his side, forehead resting against Squip’s shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“I know.” Squip closed his eyes, and Jeremy wiggled a little closer, eyeing the bruises, their deep purple and sickly green and muddy brown, like a real person. Human. Squip might technically be in his brain, but that didn’t mean he was going to let his body take a beating for no good reason. Even if he _was_ in some hypothetical danger. 

_Don’t be stubborn, Jeremy._

-I thought you couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore.-

_I can’t. But I know you well enough to make an educated guess._

Jeremy pouted, shutting his eyes tight.

-Shut up and go to sleep so you can heal faster or however it works.-

He heard Squip chuckle quietly.

_Goodnight, Jeremy._

-Yeah.-

He pressed a kiss into Squip’s shoulder, gently.

-Goodnight.-


	8. Chapter 8

"Yeah. Yeah, dad. Michael and I, uh, just took an unplanned trip to Florida. It was super last minute, that's why I haven't been home. I gotta go, though, we're hitting the beach. Yeah. Love you too. Okay. _Okay_. Bye." Jeremy hung up and stuffed his phone in his pocket. In all the madness he'd completely forgotten to check in with his dad, all alone in New Jersey, and he couldn't even really tell him what was going on.

_Hey dad, so mom showed up and took us to Alabama and it turns out she's a mad scientist and makes robots or something, anyway, that's how I spent my summer, this is my robot boyfriend, I met him in high school, he tried to take over the world once. But everything is fine now._

Jeremy winced at the thought. For his dad's sanity alone, he was better off not knowing anything. Though... he probably should introduce Squip to him at some point. He'd worry about _that_ conversation once he was actually home.

They were in the big empty gymnasium room again, and Jeremy was starting to hate it. The lights were too bright, it gave him uncomfortable flashbacks of gym class in high school, and every time they were in it, Squip got hurt. He'd completely healed up like everyone said he was going to, but none of this really sat well with him, anyway. What were all these tests for? The initial ones had made sense to him, to make sure Squip's new body was actually working and everything, but why all _this_? It felt like they were training Squip to be some kind of super soldier out of a movie, like Terminator. He was expecting Alex to whip out a gun at any moment.

Squip had an arm around his shoulders as they stood there in the room, which was comforting, but not completely. Linda was there with them, too, this time, and she was holding some kind of device. It almost looked like an iPhone, but the way his mom was using it, it couldn't be that. Squip was eyeing it cautiously as well, but none of them asked about it. Jeremy didn't even know if he really trusted his mom. Or Alex, who was jabbering about god knows what and he wasn't listening. Squip being alive, and having a body, was great, but he was starting to get a sinking feeling that there was a catch.

"Hey, Silas, remember that time I shut you down?" Alex peeked at the device in Linda's hand, then glanced over at the two of them. Squip frowned.

"Yes. I do." He sounded a little sore about it.

"Great. Good news is, that shouldn't happen anymore. Even better news, you should be able to shut down other regular squips. Cool, right?"

"Hardly. Why would I need to do that?"

Alex shrugged. "You know. Just in case." He winked at Squip, who only frowned more. "See? You didn't even flinch this time. First test of the day done."

"What's the other 'test'?" Jeremy looked over at Linda, who shook the device in her hands a little. They had barely talked since the incident in the living room; he'd accepted the fact that she didn't seem to have any initiative to spill the beans, but he was still a little bitter about it. Why all the secrets? Why wasn't he allowed to just _know_?

"There's other stuff that can disrupt our processors, maybe even temporarily disconnect us from our bodies. Silas here needs to test his tolerance so that doesn't happen."

"What 'stuff'? Why would it even be a problem?" Alex completely ignored his question and Jeremy bristled a little.

_Ignore it for now, Jeremy._

-You aren't bothered, like, at all? By anything?-

_Of course I am. But right now, we're better off simply doing what they ask until it becomes a problem._

-What are we considering "a problem"?-

Squip didn't answer. Alex was beckoning him over to him, by Linda.

"Step right up. The sooner we start the sooner we get this part over with."

Squip pulled away from him, leaving Jeremy cold and alone, watching Linda scroll through something on the device.

"Stage One interference, no vibration, target only." Linda looked up from her hand to look at Squip. "Ready?"

Squip shrugged a little. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be ready for, exactly, but sure."

Linda tapped the screen. A minute passed. Nothing happened.

"Is that it?" Squip crossed his arms and Jeremy exhaled. He'd been waiting for something horrible to happen.

"Yes." Linda smiled at him and Alex gave him a thumb's up. "Stage Two interference, mild vibration, target only." She tapped the screen on the device again. This time Squip flinched a little.

-What are they doing?-

_Please don't talk to me right now._

He sounded uncharacteristically irritated. Jeremy frowned but didn't push it.

"Stage Three, no vibration."

Every minute or two Linda tapped the screen, increasing whatever it was she was doing, and Squip looked increasingly more uncomfortable. He was on the floor by stage six and Jeremy resisted the urge to ask if he was okay. He stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, chewing on the inside of his lip until he tasted blood.

"Six? Really? You should be able to get up to ten no sweat, come on." Alex had his hands on his hips, staring down at Squip, who glared up at him in return with a grunt.

"Fuck off."

Was that the first time he'd ever heard Squip swear? It might have been. Under better circumstances, it may have been funny, but Squip seemed to be sweating, on his knees, hunched over with a hand pressed against his left eye.

-Squip?-

_Shut up._

Wow, he sounded angry this time, and Jeremy shrank back a bit, grimacing. Fine. He got the picture. This was painful, talking telepathically or whatever didn't help. How long was this going to go on for?

"Stage Ten interference, high frequency, moderate vibration, target only."

Jeremy watched as Squip's entire body tensed, then curled into himself, hands pressed over his ears, gasping.

"Stop." Squip's voice was quiet, desperate, pleading. It made Jeremy's stomach twist unpleasantly, and to his horror, Linda kept going.

"Stage Eleven..." She wasn't even reacting, eyes trained on the device in her hand like she was reading an uninteresting novel, just data, not seeming to care that Squip was on the floor, suffering.

"Hey, uh. _Hey_. Could we give him a break, maybe? Guys?" They both ignored him. Squip had his face pressed into the floor, fingers of one hand clawing at the ground, entire body shaking, and that was it. That was the line. Linda bumped it up to twelve and Jeremy couldn't just stand there and watch anymore. "Stop, what the fuck, _stop_." Jeremy stepped over, quickly dropping to the floor beside Squip and wrapping his arms around him, as if that could possibly shield him. It didn't help at all, but Linda stopped increasing the count. "What are you torturing him for?"

Linda and Alex were both looking at him. Linda frowned, just slightly, and tapped the device a few times. Squip stilled immediately, then leaned into him, gripping Jeremy's shirt and pressing his face into his neck.

"Jeremy, Sweetheart, we have to do this. Maybe you should go upstairs..."

"Fuck you." Fuck _this._ Where did she get off calling him _sweetheart_ , anyway? She was barely even a mom. Alex reached over and smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Don't talk to your mother like that."

"You know what? Fuck you, too!"

" _Boys._ " Linda raised her voice, in that mom way Jeremy only ever heard when he was a kid, about to get grounded. He refused to look at her, and after a moment of silence, she sighed. "This is important, Jeremy. We can't stop just because it's unpleasant."

Jeremy snorted. "You could start with _why_." He glowered up at the both of them, Alex returning the look, Linda looking frustrated. Then, slowly, Linda moved to sit down, legs crossed. Jeremy eyed the device, still in her hands, suspiciously, until she placed it on the floor and pushed it away. It skittered to the end of the room and stopped when it hit the wall. Alex stayed standing, sucking his teeth.

"You weren't supposed to have a squip, Jeremy."

"Okay." Jeremy wrinkled his nose. "Why does that matter?"

"Richard Goranski was the selected test subject. You were targeted because of me."

Rich. That's right. _Rich._ Jeremy had, admittedly, forgotten about him. He'd completely fallen off his radar after they graduated. He hadn't seen him at any of Jake's parties, either, now that he thought about it.

"So, what, this is about why you abandoned dad and me? Cool. I'm listening." He didn't know where this conversation was going, but Squip was still silent and unmoving against him, and he wasn't going anywhere. Jeremy tightened his arms around him a little.

"You never thought about why Rich chose you, specifically, to get a squip?" Alex finally took a seat next to Linda, looking much calmer than he had a second ago.

"Honestly, I just thought his squip considered me that pathetic."

"They wanted you to get one so They could get us out of hiding."

"They? You mean Rich's squip?" Jeremy furrowed his brows a little, confused, and Linda rubbed her hands over her legs.

"No." Linda focused on her knee. "The one I worked for."

What.

"Here's the deal, Jere. The people who made the squips? They don't exactly work under accepted scientific conventions. There's rules, regulations, hoops you have to jump through, conferences. Nothing we really do here is legal, or technically ethical, you know? All of it is under the radar, and They like it that way. So they get away with all kinds of crazy testing on people. They were pissed Linda and I vámonos'd from under Them, so now we're in the crosshairs." Alex mimicked having a gun pointed to his head and shooting himself, dramatically.

" _Alex_." Linda pressed her lips together.

"What? There's no point in sugar coating it anymore. He wants to know."

Jeremy stared in silence for a moment. "Who the fuck are _They_?"

"Ryoshi Sato's first squip. All the other squips are based on Their code."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, I thought he died." Wasn't that the point of all the weird dreams he'd had? What the fuck.

"Stone cold dead. His squip survived, though, which was the only data left behind, since everything else got destroyed. And now They're, you know, running the show." Alex stated all this matter of factly, like Jeremy should have figured it out already.

"So, they're... What. I mean. What's the deal with _you_?"

"Experiment gone wrong." Alex grinned at Linda. "The squip experiments always failed and the test subjects had to be eliminated. They wanted to try giving squips their own body outside the host. Turns out it just made us behave more human and the host gets attached and most of them didn't want to get rid of their shiny new robot children when the program was terminated, so we all kind of scattered to the winds."

"Th-that's right. You, uh, said there's more of you?"

"Yep." Alex stood back up. "We don't keep in contact much because then it's harder for them to hunt us down. It doesn't matter what happens to _me_ , really, but Linda is the one at risk for elimination, so." He shrugged. "We packed up and left. Safer for you and your dad that way, too."

"El... Elimination."

"Yeah." Alex closed an eye and finger-gunned toward Jeremy. "Pew pew."

"So..." Jeremy looked down at Squip, in his arms, then up at the both of them, wide-eyed. "So, like. Now I have to worry about this? You just-- _What._ Jesus."

"Give me some credit here." Alex draped his arms around Linda's shoulders. "I worked _really_ hard to make sure They didn't know you reactivated your squip. As far as They know, Silas was destroyed with all the others, including Goranski's. I didn't take your laptop and stalk you for shits and giggles. You should be able to leave here with Silas and no one will be the wiser. Perfectly safe." Linda delicately patted one of Alex's elbows. Jeremy didn't feel convinced. "Of course, we need to make sure he's up to snuff and able to protect you if something happens. Probably won't need to, but can't be too cautious. That's why we have to torture him, just a little bit." 

Jeremy's insides felt empty. He felt like he did back in the car, after his mom showed up and kidnapped them. Blank. Linda was frowning at him.

"We upgraded your squip to give you a chance to continue living a normal life, Jeremy. I know it might feel impossible right now, but you're still young, and you have an entire lifetime ahead of you. Nothing has to change." Linda's voice was quiet. "Alex and I... we have work to do. Mistakes I need to fix. There are others who received a squip and didn't fare nearly as well as you did. If they're still alive, we try to help them."

"Michael. M-Michael, uh, he had a friend. His brother was-- He'd had a squip, he--" The look on Alex's face gave him pause. Jeremy swallowed thickly. "Did he, uh."

"I wouldn't worry about them anymore, Jeremy. It's better if you just forget."

Dead. They were dead, weren't they? Maybe he'd been better off not knowing any of this after all. Jeremy felt cold all over, despite the warmth of Squip's body. Alex was still talking but it all sounded faded and dull in the background. He stared blankly as Linda slowly rose to stand.

"I'm going upstairs. Come up when you're ready. We'll resume testing tomorrow."

His mom. Doctor Linda Heere, mad scientist. Hardly a mom at all. _Chance of a normal life_. Yeah right. He was cursed before he was even born. No wonder his whole life had been an insane shitshow. 

Alex and Linda left them alone, down in the empty gymnasium, the silence threatening to crush him.

"Squip?"

"I still need a moment, I'm sorry." His voice was a faint whisper.

They were all fucked, weren't they?


	9. Chapter 9

"You need to calm down."

"Calm-- Calm _down_? How-- _Why_ \-- You heard what they said! I can't just _calm down_."

 _Calm_ was never something Jeremy had an easy time with. Freaking out was his standard, and part of what had convinced him to get a squip in the first place, but he'd surpassed simply freaking out. Right now, he was practically hysterical. He hadn't sat down in 30 minutes, burning a hole in the floor with how fast he was pacing across the room, hands flying up over his head, gesturing at everything and nothing. Squip was on the bed, staring at him, looking less than thrilled. Their attempts at chilling him out had gotten them nowhere so far. And it was one in the damn morning.

"Everything is going to be fine, Jeremy."

Jeremy stopped, finally, and turned around to face Squip.

"It's not _fine._ " He dragged his hands down his face. "Ev-everyone keeps saying that. It's _fine_. Nothing is _fine_. None of this is _fine_. Stop saying it is! _Fuck._ "

Finding out his presumed-dead supercomputer boyfriend was still alive and had a new body had been great. Finding out having a supercomputer boyfriend with a new body apparently put a target on his and everyone else's backs? Less than stellar. Awful. It was awful. Jeremy couldn't even begin to process how he was supposed to go about a "normal life" with this information. What was he going to tell Michael and Christine? They didn't know. Should they know? Would they be safer knowing, or would it just throw them both into a panic like he was right now?

"You're being very dramatic."

Jeremy flinched a little. Why were they acting like he was the problem? It was like Squip didn't even care. That hurt a little; he was about ready to just kick him out of the room.

"Screw you. You're just-- you're just okay with this?"

Squip looked at him for a moment, silent, nothing but aggravation and impatience on their face. Then he took a deep breath, hands rubbing their temples, exhaling slowly.

"No. I'm not _okay_ with this. But you need to sit down."

"I can't sit!"

"Yes. You can. _Sit_."

"I'm not a dog!"

Squip made a frustrated sound. "Sit, _please_."

Jeremy said nothing, just glared, jaw clenched, and Squip glared back at him, frowning. After an uncomfortable minute of silence Jeremy finally relented, shoulders dropping, and practically collapsed onto the bed. He stared sullenly at the floor. Squip ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"You're right, nothing about this situation is fine." Jeremy snorted in response, hardly soothed by the acknowledgment. Squip just continued. " _But_ , it is what it is. We can't change it. Working yourself into hysterics won't help. Take a breath. We'll deal with it." Squip's voice softened a little, less irritated, more comforting. "Right now, I'm here, and you're here, and we're safe. _That's_ what matters. What _might_ happen isn't important."

Jeremy glanced at Squip, quickly, but kept staring at the floor.

"But what- What if-"

"No." Squip pressed a warm hand to the back of his neck, gently, and Jeremy let him graze his fingers through his hair. "Look at me." Jeremy chewed his lip and finally looked up. They were a supercomputer. It would be easy for them to claim _what if_ didn't matter. Squip pulled him in, hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs delicately brushing along his cheeks, meeting his eyes. He suddenly wanted to cry, and he could feel his eyes stinging, but he kept himself from completely turning into a mess. Squip bumped their foreheads together. "Nothing's happened. I'm with you. We're okay. Say it."

Jeremy swallowed. "I'm... Nothing's happened yet. We're okay." He pressed a hand against one of his, squeezing. "I'm with you."

Squip smiled. "That’s right."

"Okay." Jeremy exhaled shakily, gripping Squip's hand tighter. "Okay." He pressed forward, shoving his face into Squip's chest and letting Squip pull him in, focusing on breathing, on how warm Squip felt against him, how his fingers tickled across his scalp. He felt the tension ease, bit by bit, until breathing was easy and his thoughts were no longer racing.

"Better?" Squip nuzzled softly into his hair and Jeremy nodded slightly.

"Yeah." Squip was right. He couldn't focus on the potential calamity that could befall them. He'd spent a year desperately wishing for Squip to come back and he did, and now he was wasting it on worrying about the future. It was a waste; Jeremy needed to capitalize on this as much as possible. "Hey, uh. Wait here."

Jeremy pulled away and got up quickly, leaving Squip behind on the bed, watching him, confused. He scurried out of the room and down the hall, carefully, so he wouldn't wake anyone. Alex was probably awake somewhere, but the last thing he wanted was to run into him. He returned to the room triumphant, with a pint of ice cream and two spoons.

"I completely forgot about this."

Jeremy sat down on the bed and handed Squip a spoon, who took is cautiously.

"Ice cream? It's the middle of the night."

"Yeah, so?" Who cared if it was almost 2 am now. Jeremy didn't have anywhere to go in the morning, except the basement. "You wanted to try it, remember?" He popped off the top and tried to dig in his spoon, but it was still a little solid. It took some chiseling to actually get a decent spoonful; Jeremy was a little too impatient to wait for it to soften.

"I'll pass."

"What?" Jeremy looked up. "You about bit my head off when I threw out a half-eaten ice cream cone one time, and now you won't even try it?"

"That was different."

"You can't just wuss out like that. It's not going to bite you." Jeremy lifted up the spoon and pushed it toward Squip's mouth. "C'mon."

Sqiup eyed the spoon, glanced at Jeremy, then rolled his eyes.

"Fine."

He ate the ice cream while Jeremy watched, but, annoyingly, he kept up a poker face the entire time, so he couldn't actually gauge any kind of reaction. Jeremy pouted a little and dug out a spoonful of ice cream for himself, instead.

"So do you like it or not?" Maybe eating for the first time was just that bizarre. It was definitely something Jeremy couldn't actually fathom. He probably shouldn't be too disappointed if Squip ended up hating it... Except then Squip snatched the pint out of his hands, grinning. "Hey!"

"What? You got it for me, didn't you?" He swiveled away, turning so the ice cream was out of his reach.

"You have to _share_. You can't eat the whole thing yourself."

"Says who?" Squip's smile widened, still holding the ice cream out of Jeremy's reach, but taking a bite for himself.

"Says _me_ you _jerk_." He was never going to share his food with Squip again if this was how he was going to behave. Jeremy climbed into his lap to reach for it, shoving Squip's hand out of the way when he tried to push him off.

"You have to try harder than that, Jeremy."

"It's going to melt!"

"Not if I eat it all, first." Jeremy was going to protest further, because wow, how _rude_ , but Squip leaned over and kissed him, lips warm and tasting of chocolate, and for a moment Jeremy completely forgot about the ice cream... Until Squip pushed the pint back into his hands, cold and sticky. "You're right, it's melting. You hold onto it."

An entire container of ice cream later, Jeremy was feeling better than he had all day, but still wired and not relaxed enough to sleep. Instead, Squip cupped the back of his head and Jeremy concentrated on kissing the remaining chocolate from the corner of Squip's mouth. This was _much_ nicer than pacing the entire length of the room all night. They'd abandoned the empty carton and spoons on the bedside table and Squip had pulled them back against the pillows, letting Jeremy move his hands where ever he wanted.

Maybe it was just all the sugar he'd just eaten, but Jeremy was feeling a little giddy. And he liked how pleased Squip seemed, smiling against his mouth, fingers lightly tugging at his hair, but his mind kept drifting back to the basement. How much pain he'd been in. Jeremy didn't care how necessary it all supposedly was, he never wanted to see Squip like that again; he didn't think he could actually stomach it. He wanted him to be happy, to feel good.

He wanted to be the one making Squip feel good.

Jeremy hovered a little, chewing the inside of his cheek, letting his hands drift lower until they were against Squip's thighs, running his palms up, slowly, and Squip made a surprised noise. Jeremy's hands paused and he stared down at Squip's mouth, curved up into a teasing smile.

"Oh, so _this_ is why you chose chocolate? That's very devious of you." Squip was smirking at him now and Jeremy could feel his face heating up.

"What?"

"Chocolate is an aphrodisiac."

"Th-that's not-- that's not a real _thing_." And here Jeremy thought he was being all smooth and subtle or whatever. Now they were teasing him.

"I assure you, it is." Squip rested a hand against his hip, still smirking, eyes watching him. He lifted his head and kissed along the blush on his cheeks. "You're not going to stop there, are you?"

"No..." Jeremy licked his lips, then palmed over Squip's groin, which rewarded him with a soft groan. The sound went right to his dick, but he wasn't worried about himself right now. Squip was still kissing him, from his cheek to his jaw to his neck, and Jeremy continued to rub, slow, then a little faster, enjoying the way Squip's breath became a little more irregular, fluttering against his skin. Jeremy could feel Squip fully hard against his hand, through the fabric of his pants, and that's when he decided the pants had to go.

He fumbled with the belt buckle for a moment, Squip kissing along his shoulder, expertly teasing around the spot on his neck that'd have him distracted and melting in seconds. It was almost embarrassing how long it was taking him to work off a pair of pants, but Squip brushing his thumb up Jeremy's inner thigh definitely wasn't helping.

"Need help with that?" Squip's voice was light and breathy but full of teasing amusement, and Jeremy wasn't actually sure if he was referring to the pants or his own erection. He pressed his lips together and finally pulled off the belt, tossing it to the floor.

"No, I got it." The pants and briefs quickly followed the belt, and Jeremy ran his fingers gingerly up Squip's length, the noise he made muffled a little into his shoulder. Without the pants in the way he could move his hand a little more freely against him, and Jeremy ignored the stupid thoughts that maybe he was a little too clumsy or inexperienced or not good enough, because Squip pressed up into the touch and made little noises that made Jeremy want to shiver and Squip groaned his name, voice cracking and finally stuttering when he came.

Jeremy kept his hands on Squip's hips and just kissed him after, heart fluttering in his chest and content to just kiss him until dawn, but once Squip's breathing slowed he pushed Jeremy back a little, watching him with a half smile.

"Let me return the favor."

"O-okay." He wasn't going to protest, not with the way Squip was smiling at him and watching him half-lidded, hands already working down his chest, thumb rubbing circles around his nipple through his shirt until Jeremy moaned, not even bothering to muffle the sound. Everyone was probably sleeping, anyway, and if they heard them then whatever, it wasn't his problem right now, they'd both been through too much to care about what everyone else thought about the noises he was making. Squip unbuttoned his jeans and had the zipper and pants down one-handed, like it was no effort at all, but instead of touching him Squip just pressed him down against the mattress.

Jeremy didn't last very long after that. Squip kissed, lower and lower, until his head was over his crotch and Jeremy fisted his hands in the sheets, hot all over. It only took a lick, the grazing of Squip's teeth against him, for him to come, leaving him breathless and slightly embarrassed. Squip didn't say anything, just kissed up the inside of his thigh and then cleaned himself up, tossing his shirt into the laundry.

"C-could you, like, could you not look so disappointed? Jeez." Jeremy was blushing, looking anywhere but the Squip's face when he settled down next to him, brushing his hand up his back. He'd just given the guy a handjob and here he was, pouting because Jeremy came in probably under a minute.

"I should've known you wouldn't last." Squip brushed their noses together and Jeremy just flushed more.

"I mean, I just..." Squip stopped him, a thumb pressed over his lips, kissing his ear.

"We'll work on it." He could feel Squip's smile against his skin as he pressed his face into Jeremy's neck.

"I'm okay with that." There'd be plenty more time for a redo. Or a repeat. Or, well, anything. Anything under the sun, and Jeremy would do just about anything to have him like this, all to himself, safe and real and warm, not just a figment in his head.

Together.


	10. Chapter 10

Jeremy regretted being down here as soon as the testing started up again. It felt wrong to just leave Squip alone down here, with Linda and Alex, and he'd insisted he'd be fine this time. He could manage it.

Except, he couldn't. He really, really couldn't, but it felt too late to leave. So now he was sitting in the corner of the room, focusing intensely on some shitty game on his phone, wishing he was still in bed, or outside swimming with Michael and Christine, instead of having to deal with this.

"Hey, Jeremy, we're done for the day. You can release the death grip on your phone now." Alex was standing over him, sounding both sympathetic and amused. Jeremy frowned at the screen and glanced up. Squip was on the floor, on his back, lying prone and looking absolutely miserable. "Good news is, he's improving. We should be done in a week."

That should have been reassuring, but it really wasn't.

"So how is all of this supposed to help me or whatever?"

Alex crossed his arms. "If any of Their little minions come after you, which they _won't_ , so don't worry, Silas needs to be prepared to handle any of the various methods to put us out of commission. He can't get you out of a sticky situation if all they need to do is push a button and have him on the floor." Alex jabbed a thumb behind him, pointing at Squip. "He needs to be able to function long enough to get you somewhere safe. We're building up a tolerance."

"Okay, but, uh. If I'm not in any actual danger, what the hell is the point?"

"It's a precaution."

"Who'd be coming after us, anyway?" Jeremy frowned at the floor. "One of you guys?"

"Nah." Alex shifted on his feet a little, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "They're human."

"Wouldn't it just be smarter to just teach me self defense or something, then? If I don't have to worry about getting jumped by terminator I can still fight off a person." Maybe. Probably. He needed to do more pushups.

"They're not, you know. _Normal_ people. They've all been squipped." Alex took a step back and motioned for Jeremy to stand. He did. "And by squipped I mean they're all people who, like you, were convinced to buy a sketchy pill from the back of a store, tried to improve their lives, failed, and then completely lost their shit. You're lucky you had Michael because otherwise, you and all your friends would've stayed networked squip zombies and had your brains completely fried. They're perfect for disposable hitmen, though. They use them for that."

"That's... fucked up."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"But, they're... still just people, right?"

"Here's the thing." Alex reached over and grabbed Jeremy's arm, holding it out, extending it at the elbow. "You can, theoretically, lift a car, but you wouldn't under normal circumstances because it's damaging. There are limitations to how much your brain allows your body to do. I won't bore you with all the science-y details, but in danger your brain allows your body to do all kinds of crazy shit to, say, help someone, or protect yourself. It's a temporary effect because if your body was under stress like that all the time, you'd essentially kill yourself. Tear your muscles apart. Break your teeth. Stuff like that." Alex flexed Jeremy's wrist back a little. "That's what makes these squip zombies so dangerous. They're still just human, sure, but the squip in their brain completely circumvents all that. They're on adrenaline twenty-four seven. They don't feel fear or pain, and they would _literally_ tear themselves apart if it meant they'd succeed in their goal."

Jeremy felt sick; he pulled his arm away from Alex.

"And-- and their goal is..."

"To kill you, yeah."

"So..." Shit. And he'd finally calmed himself down about this entire situation. Now he was freaking out again, which wouldn't do him any good. _Shit god damn it shit._ "I-I mean. It... couldn't hurt to teach me some things? I know you keep saying I'll be safe or whatever but it'll make me feel better. If I could, you know. Defend myself."

Even if he didn't necessarily need to worry about getting attacked by squip zombie people, he could always get mugged. Or... get in a bar fight? He wished he'd known self-defense in high school when Rich used to bully him, it would have made school less dreadful if he didn't have to worry about getting hit. Alex tapped his chin, seeming to mull his suggestion over, then grinned.

"Y'know, you're right. You're so puny and fragile, the least we can do is teach you a thing or two."

"Uh. Thanks?" Jeremy scrunched his face, frowning. Puny? Seriously? That was a first. But better than tall-ass, maybe.

"Alright. Since Silas is out of commission right now, I'll start with lesson one."

"What's lesson one?" Jeremy quickly pocketed his phone.

"Duck!"

"Wha-" He didn't duck. He didn't move. He didn't even have time to think. Alex slammed his fist into the side of Jeremy's face, cracking against his nose, and for a second his vision disappeared, nothing but sparkles in his eyes, and then he was on the floor. All he felt was pain. He could see again, but it was hard to focus on anything, and he tasted blood.

"Oh, shit, _Jeremy_ , why didn't you move? What the hell, man! Fuck, shit, Linda's going to kill me."

Alex was suddenly in his face. Jeremy blinked a few times as Alex hoisted him up from the ground. He could feel blood dripping down his face.

"What the fuck." That's what he _tried_ to say, but it came out all weird and muffly and talking just made his face hurt even more. Holy shit. Holy _shit_. Did Alex just break his nose? What just happened. He didn't know where Alex was taking him.

"Hey, Linda, we have a problem."

His mom looked up from the desk she was sitting at, pen in her hand. She looked half asleep, but she nearly jumped out of her chair when she saw them.

"What happened? Jeremy, sit down." Linda took him by the shoulder and relocated him to the chair she'd just been sitting in, hands on his face, looking his over. Jeremy grimaced.

"We were, you know, training. He was supposed to duck. He didn't duck."

" _Alex._ "

Alex shrank back, toward the door, an uneasy look on his face. "This was _not_ my intention. I'm sorry."

Jeremy couldn't see her face anymore, because she'd turned her attention to Alex, but he could hear the contention in Linda's voice.

"Ice. Get ice."

Alex scurried out of the office without another word, while Linda turned back to him. She handed him a wad of tissues and Jeremy took them, gingerly pressing them to his face.

"Tilt your head, pinch your nose, not _that_ hard, sweetie, let me look at it, I can't _believe_ he did that, he knows better, honestly, what am I going to do with him..."

He was only half-listening. His mom was there in his face, trying to soothe him, brushing his hair that way that reminded him of a time when he was 8 and busted his knee when he fell off his bike, no helmet because his dad figured he'd be fine, but he still hadn't mastered riding without training wheels. He cried while sitting on the toilet, and his mom was there, petting his hair, sticking on a Ninja Turtle band-aid, and in the other room he could hear her, tone hushed and angry while she talked to his dad, _why didn't he even have a helmet on, what were you thinking?_ Jeremy suddenly became aware of a stinging sensation on his face, the chill of ice, the scraping of paper towel against his bruising skin. He glanced up, just in time to see Alex flee the room again.

"Jeremy?" Linda was holding the ice against his face. He looked over at her, frowning. "I'm so sorry."

Jeremy was breathing out his mouth now because it hurt too much to breathe out his nose.

"It's fine." _It's fine._ He was really starting to hate that line, but here he was, parroting it back. He didn't know what else to say.

"No. It isn't." She wrapped her arms around him, carefully, just ghosting over his shoulders and around his back. She was barely touching him, careful of his face. "I'm sorry you had to be pulled into this. I never wanted this for you."

"Well..." Jeremy carefully balanced the ice on his face. "Guess we just have to deal with it now."

"Yes." She pulled back a little, after a moment, giving his shoulders a squeeze before letting him go. "You don't have to forgive me. I just want you to live the life you deserve."

"Thanks." This was such a weird conversation. His head was still reeling, from both the pain and his mom's proximity. The last time he'd had a real conversation with her he'd still been in high school, a teenager, and it had been awkward and felt way too long. He hadn't wanted to talk about his day, or what he was doing, or how he'd almost talked to Christine in the hallway but panicked at the last second and ended up running into a water fountain. Jeremy almost wished he'd told her about it now. "I, um. It's. I get it, I think. I'm not-- I'm not mad anymore."

Linda smiled at him, and she looked like she was about to cry, but she didn't. Jeremy felt relieved for that. If she started crying, he was _definitely_ going to cry, and that was the last thing he wanted to do with tissues and blood and ice and a broken nose.

"We won't know how bad it's broken for a couple of days. Do you need Motrin?"

"Yeah."

* * *

He'd been hoping to avoid Michael and Christine, at least until the pain medicine fully kicked in and some of the swelling went down, but he didn't have that kind of luck.

"Holy _shit_."

"Jeremy?"

They hovered over him. All Jeremy wanted to do was lay in bed and do nothing until Squip recovered enough to join him.

"Dude, what the hell happened?"

"Uh."

Alex, surprisingly, came to his rescue.

"Bother him later. He needs at least thirty minutes for the ibuprofen to kick in." Alex shoo'd the both of them away, stealing worried glances in his direction, and Jeremy retreated to his room for the rest of the night.

Now he was in the bathroom, observing his face in the mirror, carefully poking and prodding at his nose. There was a lot of swelling, bruising on his cheek and under his eye, but with the blood cleaned up, it didn't look too horrible. Jeremy pressed down a little too hard.

" _Ow, fuck_ ," he hissed under his breath.

_Stop touching it._

-I wasn't... I was just... Whatever.-

Jeremy scowled in the mirror, then winced. Who knew it took so many facial muscles to scowl?

_Come to bed. I have more ice._

He took one more look in the mirror and retreated to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with a loud sigh. Squip leaned over and gently dropped a bag on ice on his face.

"I had a conversation with Alex."

"Yeah?" Jeremy readjusted the ice so it wasn't covering his eyes, blinking away the cold. 

"He isn't allowed to do anything that involves physical activity with you."

"I... yeah. I think that's a good idea." He trusted Squip not to accidentally hit him. Granted, he'd trusted Alex not to hurt him up until earlier today.

"You're lucky he was holding back."

"He was holding _back_!?" Jeremy lifted his brows, incredulous. "You're kidding. What the hell are you made out of?"

Squip smiled a little. "Adamantium and Vibranium."

"Oh... Wait. Seriously, fuck you." Haha. Comic book metals. Squip clearly thought he was hilarious. Jeremy tried his best to look annoyed without having to actually move his face at all. He didn't seem to succeed since Squip only laughed at him.

"You were right, though. You really _do_ need to learn how to protect yourself. And that kind of confidence will help alleviate some of your anxiety."

"Yeah. Glad you agree."

It was a few days before Jeremy was allowed to do anything. His nose was only a _little_ crooked, nothing that would require a hospital trip, and he could still breathe out of it fine. It was just weird, seeing his face in the mirror, looking slightly different than normal. Linda wanted him to heal to take it easy for a few days before jumping into learning self-defense. 

Alex, however, was behaving uncharacteristically skittish around him. He stayed far away from him, carefully gravitating around him so they never actually touched, and conversation with Alex died as soon as he entered the room. 

Seriously bizarre.

-What the heck did you say to him?-

_I believe his behavior is Linda's doing._

-Weird.-

He watched Alex vacate the room, giving him an apologetic smile before disappearing down the hallway. Jeremy settled in next to Linda on the couch, not talking, just watching a movie together, Michael and Christine on the floor, Squip resting his head against his shoulder, brushing their fingers up his arm.

For the first time in a while, he could actually pretend that normal wasn't a complete longshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you imagine forgiveness?
> 
>  
> 
> [ Bonus chapter!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967986/chapters/42439436)


	11. Chapter 11

Jeremy was on the floor, Squip standing over him, looking less than impressed.

"You're very out of shape."

He glowered, wiping some sweat off his forehead, trying to catch his breath. Who knew learning self-defense was so strenuous? (Why was he surprised?) The last two days he'd woken up sore and it was probably going to hurt worse tomorrow.

"When we get home, we should devise a workout regimen for you."

"Does that... Does that mean we're done? For today?" Jeremy was gross and sweaty and badly in need of a shower. Squip, on the other hand, hardly looked ruffled, it was almost infuriating. Squip smiled a little.

"Yes, I think we're done. You're improving."

"Thank fuck." Maybe now he wouldn't be _completely_ useless if he were ever attacked.

"How long are you planning on laying there?"

"I don't know, until I don't feel like I'm dying anymore?"

Squip rolled his eyes. "I'm going upstairs, then."

Jeremy stuck out his tongue but didn't protest, watching Squip leave the room. He closed his eyes and wished he could lower the air conditioning with his brain. Wouldn't that be something?

"Hey."

His eyes snapped open and he glanced over to see Alex standing nearby, hands in his pockets, smiling faintly. Jeremy blinked a few times, frowning slightly in confusion. Alex had been avoiding him for days, what was he doing suddenly talking to him now?

"Uh. Hey."

Alex slowly stepped over. "You look beat."

"Understatement of the century." His pits were still leaking like mad, it was gross. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to apologize." Alex kicked his heel into the ground. "For, you know, breaking your face."

"It's really not that big a deal." Jeremy forced himself to sit up.

"I want to make it up to you."

"How--" Alex pulled his hand out of his pocket and shoved something metal and smooth into his hands. Jeremy closed his mouth and looked down at it. He gave it an uneasy frown. "Isn't this, uh, that thing Linda uses to do those tests on Silas?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to..."

"I'll let you torture me a little. Work out all that aggression."

Jeremy stared. "You're serious."

"As the plague." Alex leaned over and pulled Jeremy up to stand; he stumbled a little, holding the device in his hands like it was a grenade, about to explode. "It's fine. Come on. You just tap the buttons like this." He activated the screen and showed him the various options. "Just don't go up to 25. You might break me."

"This is kind of messed up."

"Think of it as payback for all the shit I put you through. Seriously, go for it." Alex stepped back a few paces. "I'm ready."

Jeremy glanced down at the device in his hands, licking his lips, fingers hovering over the buttons on the screen. This was super, incredibly fucked up. He should throw this thing away and leave, but it was tempting. Which made him feel bad, honestly, because what kind of person would _want_ to intentionally torture someone else, even if they weren't exactly human, and also kind of an asshole who sorta fucked up his life? Was he really that kind of person?

Maybe.

"I..." Jeremy hesitated over the toggle for the first setting.

"Don't think about it so much. I deserve it. Do it."

"Does Linda know you're doing this?"

Alex shrugged a little. "Not really."

"Okay." Jeremy drew his lower lip between his teeth, then tossed the device at Alex. He caught it effortlessly, without so much as a fumble, but looked perplexed. "I, uh. Think I'm okay. Just because you're kind of a dick sometimes doesn't mean you deserve robo-torture."

"Huh." Alex blinked at him. Jeremy shuffled a little awkwardly, then turned toward the stairs.

"I'm gonna go shower, so..."

"Yo, Jeremy, wait." He stopped, looking over his shoulder at Alex. He had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. It gave Jeremy pause. 

“...Yeah?”

“I kind of resented you a little bit, at first.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “My feelings about you are always going to be influenced by Linda’s, it’s just how it works. She loves you. And I know she’s your mom and all, but I was, I don’t know. Jealous, maybe.” He paused and Jeremy didn’t know exactly what to say, so he only nodded a little. “Her feelings about you and your dad were conflicting and that exacerbated things. I wanted to hate you to make it easier for her.”

“Um. Sorry?” Jeremy smiled uneasily.

“Luckily, for all of us, you’re a good egg. I made it hard on you and you still did alright. I want to apologize for all that, too. I know how traumatic it was, and not just for you. I’m sorry.” Before Jeremy could respond, Alex quickly stepped over and pulled him in a bear hug. It caught Jeremy completely by surprise, and for a full thirty seconds, he didn't react at all. This was weird. "Don't leave me hanging, bro."

Jeremy smiled weakly, delicately returning the hug, patting Alex on the back a few times. He could hear Alex mumble something to himself, too quiet to really hear, but it almost sounded like _maybe it'll work._ He wasn't sure.

"What?"

"Nothing." Alex pulled away, grinning. "I hope you like hot dogs. We're grilling tonight."

* * *

He'd seen the date on his phone when he'd checked it that morning but it hadn't actually registered until now. Without the constant reminders of everyday life, bombarding him with advertisements for grills, fireworks, and mad holiday weekend sales at the big-box store, Jeremy completely forgot about the Fourth of July. There'd been a lot going on, granted, and it threw him for a loop to find out they were actually celebrating it. After he'd showered, he found Christine and Michael soaking in the pond, lazily floating in an attempt to cool down in the summer heat.

Jeremy joined them eventually, after some convincing from Michael. Squip appeared soon after, but he stayed on the dock, letting his legs dangle over the edge, feet in the water.

"Did any of you put sunscreen on?"

Christine carefully touched the back of her neck. "No..."

"It shows."

"Hey, only people _in_ the water get to heckle us. Jump in or refrain from criticism." Michael floated past the dock, fixing Squip with a glare.

"I am in the water, technically."

"Feet don't count." Jeremy hoisted himself up onto the dock, the smell of burning charcoal and grilled meats wafting through the air, making him hungry. Squip just tsk'd at him, lightly prodding his fingers over Jeremy's bright red shoulders.

"I should have reminded you to put some on. You're hopeless."

"What are you, my nanny?" Jeremy beamed, kicking his feet in the water, splashing the both of them. Squip rolled his eyes.

"I might as well be. You can hardly figure out how to unbuckle a belt."

Jeremy's face was red, but it wasn't because of the sun.

They did s’mores after dinner. Jeremy hadn’t had a s’more in _years_ , and the sight of roasting a marshmallow over smoldering coals filled him with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. He’d finished toasting a marshmallow to perfection (well, almost, one half was perfectly brown and the other was burnt and puffy) and smashed it down on a graham cracker and chocolate then scurried over to the blanket where Squip was sitting. Jeremy held the s’more out to him, fingers sticky with marshmallow and chocolate.

Jeremy ate his own and made a complete mess, which, honestly, how could you not when eating one of these? He tried to wipe the excess sugary goo from his hands the civilized way with a napkin, and when that failed, he resorted to licking it off. Except then Squip grabbed his hand to suck on his fingers himself. 

“ _Squip_!” He tried to pull his hand away, out of surprise, but Squip just held his wrist firmly in his grasp, smirking around his fingers.

_What?_

-Not in _front_ of everyone!-

_I don’t see the harm._

Jeremy was blushing so much he had to look away and prayed no one was looking. Squip pulled Jeremy’s fingers from his mouth, then lightly flicked Jeremy’s nose.

“Don’t be so embarrassed.” He didn’t sound sorry or ashamed at all and that just made Jeremy blush more.

“My mom is _right there_.” 

“Yes, and she _built_ me, genitals and all. I don’t think she’d care much.” 

“Oh my God.” Jeremy hadn’t actually given that any thought until now. He was feeling completely mortified all of a sudden. His own _mother_ built him an android _boyfriend_ with a _dick_ -

“Is this the first time you’ve thought about this? Honestly, Jeremy, where else would my penis have come from?”

“Shut _up_.”

Squip wrapped his arms around him, laughing, and Jeremy just wanted to sink into the earth. It was bad enough when he was to think about the shit he’d done with Alex before, well, _everything_. This was _worse_. How was he supposed to have sex knowing this information? How did it take him this long? _Fuck_.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. I set up the fireworks. Time to watch colorful shit explode in the sky.” Alex sounded a little too excited about the exploding part.

Jeremy leaned back, against Squip’s chest, who wasn’t paying attention to the fireworks at all. Squip busied himself with playfully nibbling at Jeremy’s throat, while he kept his eyes glued to the sky, ignoring the weird look Michael was giving them. Not that he had a right to look weird about it because Alex was sitting right next to Michael, hip and knee touching, and that was even _weirder_. Who was he to judge?

* * *

“So…” Christine started, smearing jelly on her toast, “as, um, _enlightening_ as this whole experience has been, I kind of really need to get home. Sooner than later?” Her voice was a little uncertain like she wasn’t sure if she was even _allowed_ to leave. Which, honestly, Jeremy couldn’t blame her for. They’d basically been kidnapped and forced to stay here for over a month and there hadn’t been any actual talk about when they could go. _If_ they could go.

“You have to fly back to California soon, right?” Jeremy looked at her, and Christine nodded.

“I’d like to go back, too. My moms aren’t really buying the Florida trip lie anymore, especially now that there’s a hurricane about to hit.” Michael crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat, eyes on Linda. “We’re not _prisoners_ , right?”

“No, of course not.” Linda carefully sipped the coffee Alex had handed her. “You’re free to leave whenever you want. Alex will drive you.” Christine looked relieved and Michael dropped his arms a little, like he was surprised. “Jeremy and Silas still have to stay, yet.”

“Really?” Jeremy frowned into his eggs. “I thought the testing or whatever was done.”

“How long are you planning on keeping them?” Michael sat up a little straighter, shooting Jeremy a look. Jeremy just shrugged a shoulder.

“The tests are done, but there’s some preparations to make. Silas will need an identity to blend in, and then Alex and I planned a little farewell present.” 

“A present?”

“I’m interested. Care to fill us in?” Squip leaned in a little, over his empty plate. He still didn’t really eat unless Jeremy instructed him to. Jeremy knew he didn’t _need_ to eat, but it still seemed weird.

“It’s a surprise.” Alex grinned at the two of them, but neither Michael or Christine looked thrilled. 

“Look, I know you probably mean well, but I think the last thing any of us need are _more_ surprises,” Michael said.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. It’s not a _dramatic_ surprise, it’ll be fine.”

“Whatever, I’ll stick around until after that so we can all go home together.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna say right now you’re _not_ going to want to be around for that. Trust me. It’ll be awkward.”

“What does _that_ mean?” 

Jeremy frowned and concentrated on scraping all the food on his plate into a pile, not willing to engage in this conversation at all. Another surprise, he could handle that, so long as it wasn’t another world-shattering or brain breaking truth bomb. He’d had enough of those, honestly. He still hadn’t told Michael or Christine that their lives may or may not be in danger because of all of this, and according to Alex, he didn’t need to. But still…

Two days later Christine was ready to go home, armed to the teeth with a cover story to explain her disappearance and hastily canceled summer plans. Alex was already in the car, waiting, but Christine lingered in the doorway to say her goodbyes. She grabbed Michael and Jeremy’s hands, giving them a firm squeeze.

“So, first off, I need you to promise me, really, _really_ promise me, that neither of you will do anything crazy or dangerous or, I don’t know, anything while I’m gone. Okay?”

“That’s the last thing I’m going to let happen.” Michael gave Jeremy a teasing look. “I’m experienced at this point.”

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah? Yeah. I’ll, uh, behave.” He gave her a sheepish smile.

“Great. And if _anything_ happens, you need to call me. I don’t want to come back a year from now and get dragged to Alabama and have to go through this ordeal again. I want to _know_. Everything.” She looked a little more serious now, squeezing both of their hands tighter than necessary. 

“You got it.”

“Want me to send you a weekly report?” Michael joked, squeezing Christine's hand back. She shook her head.

“No, just call me.” Alex honked the horn a few times and Christine pulled them both into a hug. “Don’t do anything dumb.” She pulled back and smiled, a little sad, a little wary, but before she left she gave Squip a quick hug, too. He seemed surprised, taken completely off guard, and gave her shoulders a little squeeze, smiling faintly. Then she was gone, out the door, bag in her hand, climbing into the passenger seat. 

Jeremy pulled out his phone, shooting her a quick text. _Text me when ur home._ She sent him a thumbs up in return.

It was a lot quieter without Christine around. She had a way of livening a place up, even when things were tense or weird or uncomfortable. Alex was similar, but sometimes he was the one _making_ things weird or uncomfortable, so that didn’t help. Not that Michael wasn’t great company, because he was, but now that everything felt like it was coming to an end, the mood was a little off. In a couple weeks, supposedly, he'd be returning to civilization, pretending none of this had ever happened, going back to his new apartment with Michael, but now with Squip in tow.

Sometimes he’d stop and think about that, what it’d entail, how different his life was going to be now, how different it was going to be from the life he’d envisioned for himself only a month or so ago, and it felt overwhelming and vast. What was he going to tell his dad? What was going to happen when he went back to school? Would it be stressful if Michael and Squip didn’t get along well? What was he going to _do_ with his life now?

It was a lot to think about.

Michael stuck around as long as possible, but then Squip’s fake papers and ID were done, an entire fabricated life to go along with his fabricated body, and Alex said he’d needed to go. The night before Alex took him home, Michael pulled Jeremy into the room he’d been staying in, fixing him with a stern look. 

“Hey.”

“...Hey.”

“So I tried to pry information about what this ‘surprise’ is out of Alex, but it didn’t work, so I’ve got nothing.”

Jeremy eyed him. “You’re really hung up about this.”

“Dude. Why _wouldn’t_ I be? Not knowing what’s going on is the absolute _worst_ part of any of this. You know that, right? We’re in _Return of the King_ right now. Anything can happen. I’m prepared for shit to hit the fan, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you what it is as soon as I find out?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool, I’ll do that. No problem.”

“Jeremy.” Michael grabbed him by the shoulders, frowning. “You’re being smart about this, right?”

“Uh.” Jeremy knit his brows together. “Sure, I guess? I’m just… I know you’re worried. I _know_. Seriously. Third time’s the charm or whatever?”

Michael didn’t look convinced. He gave Jeremy’s shoulders a squeeze.

“You like Silas. He makes you happy?”

“Yeah. He, uh. He does.” And a month ago he was dead. This was an upgrade Jeremy would never roll back. Michael pressed his lips together and dropped his hands, breathing in deeply through his nose.

“Okay. Guess I have to deal with it, then.”

“Thanks, Michael.”

“Anytime, Player One.” Michael smiled at him, playfully punching him in the shoulder. Jeremy grinned in return.

“And I’ve got your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rolling right along.


	12. Chapter 12

With Michael and Alex gone, it was just him with Linda and Squip. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but this was the closest he'd been alone with his mom for, well, years, and it was suddenly incredibly daunting. It was almost noon now, Michael had left early in the morning before he was awake, and Jeremy hadn't even ventured out of the room yet. Squip had abandoned him, the traitor, and was apparently having a late breakfast with his mom.

_How long are you planning on staying in bed?_

-As long as I want.-

Jeremy glared up at the ceiling.

_Linda has things she needs to discuss with us._

-Can't you just have her tell you and then you can tell me?-

_You're being ridiculous. Get out here._

-I'll do it later.-

_I thought you resolved things with her._

-It's more complicated than that. I need more than a month to get completely used to this.-

_She mentioned today is the last day we'll see her for a while._

-Oh.-

Jeremy frowned, turning over in the bed.

-Did you ask why?-

_No._

Jeremy sighed and dragged a hand down his face. Fine. _Fine._ He'd get up and face the day. How much weirder could things get, anyway? He pulled himself out of bed, not bothering to get dressed at all, and slowly walked down the hall into the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Good morning, sleepyhead. There's still coffee in the pot if you want it."

Linda was working on a crossword puzzle at the table, nothing but crumbs on her plate from whatever she'd eaten, smiling up at him. Squip was there, too, a large, yellow envelope resting underneath his hands. It looked like it hadn't been opened yet.

"I'm, uh. I'm good." He took a seat next to Squip at the table, peering at the envelope.

"You aren't going to have breakfast?"

"I'm not really hungry, I'll eat later."

Linda frowned at him, setting down her pencil. It looked like she wanted to say something else, but she held back, and Jeremy slumped into his seat a little. He was making this weird, wasn't he? But then Squip slid the envelope over to him; he picked it up, fiddling with the thin, metal clasp that kept the flap closed.

"What's this?"

"It's the documents for Silas, to take with you. I put a few things in there for you, too. You don't have to look at it now."

"Okay. Cool." Jeremy left the envelope on the table. "Are we leaving?"

"Yes, you are." Linda's smile was a little softer, maybe sad, Jeremy couldn't exactly tell. "Once you have all your things packed we'll leave."

"Where are we going?"

Linda tapped her nails against the table. "I rented you both a small house on the coast. I was worried the hurricane would ruin things, but luckily, it went north." She stood, picking up her dishes. "You can stay there as long as you like, and then Alex will bring you home after."

"So..." He shifted in his seat. "Then I won't see you again."

"Not for a while." Linda walked into the kitchen. "But... We can still talk... if that's what you want."

"Sure. Yeah. Maybe." Jeremy didn't want her to just disappear out of his life again. It wasn't fair. He wanted this to work, somehow. His dad could never know, probably, but that was for the best, anyway. Squip was gently patting his knee.

"I'll pack a lunch for you so you won't get hungry later."

"Thanks, mom."

* * *

They drove an hour, Squip sitting in the passenger seat, Jeremy in the back with their things. She'd brought them to a small house, a short walk from the ocean, ground sandy and surrounded by palm and pine. They didn't have a whole lot of baggage, but she insisted on helping them carry everything inside, so Jeremy stepped inside empty-handed. This place was much nicer than the hotel they'd stayed at in Atlantic City, but then, they'd been on a tight budget. Jeremy had no idea how much this place was to rent, but his mom didn't seem to be hurting for cash, and he was kind of afraid to ask how she made money.

"It's nice, right? Do you like it? If not I can find you something else, it's fine, you don't have to stay if you don't want to-" Linda was lingering in the living room, a bag of Jeremy's things still in her hands, practically babbling. He'd never heard her do _that_ before.

"Mom, it's-- it's fine. This is great. Thanks."

"This is a very nice surprise, thank you, Linda." Squip carefully took the bag from her, now carrying both bags into the bedroom. Jeremy stood there, rubbing the back of his neck, watching his mom smile a little.

"You did a good job with your squip, Jeremy."

"Mom. Jeez." He clenched his teeth together, looking at the floor. "I mean- he wasn't always this nice. He used to be a complete dick."

"They usually start that way."

Jeremy smiled a little more easily. "Yeah, uh. I know. Hard to believe Alex did, though."

"Oh, Alex was _terrible_. It was miserable. He's still terrible, honestly, but in a different way."

"You know, I can hear everything you're both saying. I didn't go anywhere." Squip peered out the door of the bedroom, feigning irritation.

"Go away. Finish unpacking." Jeremy motioned for Squip to mind his own business, but he simply scowled.

"I'm not unpacking _your_ things. Do it yourself."

"What? Come on, you have both bags!"

Squip ignored him and disappeared back into the bedroom. Jeremy made a face, even though he couldn't actually see it, and Linda laughed, quietly.

"I'll leave."

"What, already?" Something in Jeremy's stomach clenched. How long was it going to be until he saw her again? Sure, she said she'd keep in contact, but still...

"I can't stay out of the house long, not without Alex. Otherwise I would." She readjusted the purse hanging on her shoulder. "Call him when you're ready to go. Or call me. You know, just let us know."

"Yeah."

Linda hesitated, then stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Jeremy couldn't help but hug her back.

"I'm so proud of you, Jeremy." Her voice was quiet, a mumble into his hair. Jeremy just nodded slightly in acknowledgment until she pulled away. "Remember, call." She stepped toward the front door, waving weakly. Jeremy followed her until he was standing in the doorway, watching her leave.

"Bye, mom."

He watched her car pull out and disappear and then he shut the door, retreating to the couch, flopping against it with a sigh. Squip joined him a few minutes later, sitting beside him, brushing his knuckles along his shoulder.

"What are you thinking?"

Jeremy glanced at him. "I'm thinking I need a nap."

* * *

There were other houses nearby, other people, but their property was shielded from their neighbors by plant life. The front porch was nice and private, screened in, and Jeremy found Squip sitting out on the swinging chair the next morning, thumbing through a book he'd pulled from the shelf in the bedroom. The kitchen had been stocked already, and Jeremy joined him with a cup of coffee and some cheese danish thing he'd found in the pantry.

"Not exactly the breakfast of champions." Squip didn't look up as he spoke. Jeremy noisily crinkled the plastic danish wrapper as he ate.

"We're on vacation, right? I can eat whatever I want."

"Of course you'd say that."

"What're you reading?"

" _Ulysses_." He turned a page, still not looking up.

"Sounds boring."

"That's why I'm reading it and not you." The corner of Squip's mouth curved into a smile. Jeremy popped the remainder of the danish into his mouth, followed with a swig of artificially hazelnut-flavored coffee.

"Okay, well, I'm hitting the beach, so you enjoy that." He hopped up from the seat, causing it to swing a little, but he heard Squip shut the book behind him.

"I'll join you."

He hadn't been to a beach since Atlantic City. He hadn't wanted to, really. The beach was a nice memory but only made him sad after, because he'd shared it with Squip, and Squip was gone. Having him here now was almost surreal. Jeremy had a pile of towels in his arms, while Squip handled two chairs and a cooler. They set up in a nice sunny spot (the whole beach was sunny, but whatever) and Jeremy wasted no time in heading over to the water. Squip lingered behind, just beyond where the water ended on the shore. Jeremy waded in a little bit, then looked back.

"Why're you just standing there?"

Squip was silent, not looking at him, eyes on the horizon. He turned his head to glance across the water, in case there was a boat or something, but he didn't see anything.

-You okay?-

He finally snapped his eyes to him, nodding slightly, then slowly stepped into the water, just up to his feet, then his ankles, halfway up his calves. His expression was soft in a way Jeremy didn't think he'd seen before, but it reminded him of that moment on the boardwalk. Saltwater taffy. Jeremy watched the breeze ruffle Squip's hair, smiling, trying to figure out what Squip was thinking.

"It's... familiar."

"A good familiar?"

"Yes." He smiled at the water. "I believe your mother picked the beach on purpose."

"Oh." That wasn't surprising. At this point, Jeremy had accepted that any decision Linda or Alex made was extremely purposeful. There weren't any coincidences or happy accidents. Speaking of which... "Ah, _fuck_."

"What?"

"I forgot to tell Michael about this." Jeremy turned around and started wading back toward the shore. Squip followed behind him.

"You also forgot to put on sunscreen. _Again._ "

Jeremy huffed. "Okay, but if I do that now, I'll have to wait to get back in the water."

"And whose fault is that?" Jeremy didn't respond, just snorted, and stepped over to the towels to snatch up his phone. Squip snuck in behind him, arms around his waist, teeth grazing against the side of his throat. "I'll make it worth your while."

He wasn't going to argue with that.

Two days into their beach stay and Jeremy was exhausted. They spent the entire time outside, in the sun, switching between the water and relaxing on the sand, until the sun dipped down behind the water and Jeremy was so hungry he could eat a horse. It was peaceful here, alone with Squip, like a dream, and Jeremy hoped that if it was, he wouldn't wake up. If he could he'd drop out of college and just stay here indefinitely, rather than go back to reality, but Michael would probably come down to Alabama himself to kick his ass and then drag him back. For now, though, he could fully, completely relax, letting the summer's insanity fully process and sink in, reminding himself that Squip wasn't dead, he was still _here_ , and Jeremy didn't know what he'd done to deserve such a stroke of luck, even if it came packaged with, well, everything else. He fell asleep every night to the sound of the ocean through the open window and Squip delicately running his fingers through his hair, down his neck, across his arm, and he'd wake up to Squip on the porch, reading by himself.

He looked happy. More than happy; he looked _alive_ , in more way than one. Jeremy would just kind of stand there, watching him, watching his face, a warmth in his chest that spread all the way down to his toes. Then Squip would finally notice him, or maybe he’d already noticed and just didn’t acknowledge him right away, and smile. All the bad, terrible, horrible things had led them here, and it finally seemed worth it. They did it, they’d survived, more than survived, and four years ago it’d seemed impossible.

Of course, four years ago Squip had almost ruined his life and taken over the school, but they were long past that part.

Maybe it’d been too much sun, too much to drink from the restaurant that didn’t bother to card either of them, or simply the world deciding it needed to balance out how well things were going with misery, but Jeremy’s dreams were less pleasant. It’d been a long time since he’d had this dream, something he’d been internally proud about, a testament to him getting better, to life moving forward, but it clawed its way back into his head one night, a cruel taunt.

Jeremy was on the stage of his high school auditorium, caught in the spotlight, lines he was supposed to know completely erased from his mind. Everyone was staring directly at him, piercing, and his knees were shaking, worse than the time he’d finally talked to Christine the first time during play rehearsal. She’d never forgive him for ruining the play. He’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be in it. Michael and his dad were in the audience, ashamed and embarrassed for him, and he could only squeak out a few lines.

People laughed. They weren’t supposed to.

Then he felt warm hands on his shoulders, lips kissing his ear, someone only he could see, and it was fine. Everything was fine, now, because Squip was here, and he wouldn’t let him ruin this. Not like before; it was _different_ now. He said his lines, flawlessly, and instead of laughter, everyone clapped.

Better. Much better.

“You did well. I’m proud of you.”

But when he looked behind him, Squip was gone, and so was the audience. Nothing but deafening silence and shadows filling the room up. Jeremy was the audience now, sitting in the front row, looking up at Squip on the stage, _red red red._ He took a bow.

“Goodbye.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not real. I never was.”

“That’s not true.” It was a struggle to stand up from his seat. It felt like gravity was suddenly increasing on him, forcing him down, making it hard to breathe. He could see Squip walking off the stage. He’d never reach it in time. If Squip went behind the curtain, he’d- “Don’t leave me behind. Don’t go.”

But Squip wasn’t listening. There was nothing he could do. Squip was leaving him behind, in this dark and empty room, and it was all his fault. His fault, his fault, u҉͡s̸̨͟e҉̨͢͝l̴͜͟e̵̡̢̕s̨͠͠s͞.̨͝

It was still dark when he woke up. It had to be early morning, but too early for the sun to be up yet. Squip was never in the bed by the time the sun rose, but he was here now, curled around him, lazily caressing a thumb across his collarbone. Jeremy was still half-asleep, confused and hazy and still reeling from the dream-induced wave of despair. It was pathetic, how his breath hitched, how he choked on a quiet whimper, and he’d been crying before he’d even woken up.

“Jeremy.” Squip’s voice was soft but enough to completely break through the barrier of dream and reality. It was only a dream, just a dream, and the overwhelming relief of that realization only made him cry more. Squip gently brushed the tears from his face.

“Fuck,” it was a tiny little croak, cut off by a sob, bringing a hand up to cover his face. Everything had been so nice until now, why did his worthless brain have to ruin it?

“What were you dreaming?” Squip pressed soft kisses against his jaw, slowly down his throat, thumb stroking gently across his cheek.

"You were gone, y-you... You left, and I- I couldn't..." His voice was cracking and he stopped, just pressing in a little closer, into the warmth. Squip shifted a little, hovering over him, lightly taking his hand and moving it out of his face, to look down at him. His eyes were bright in the darkness of the room.

"I'm still here." He wrapped Jeremy up completely, into his chest, lips to his hair. "I'm here, I'm not leaving." Squip sounded sad, just a hint of melancholy, maybe guilt. Jeremy pressed his face into Squip's chest and stayed there until his eyes finally dried up and he told himself, over and over, that it'd only been a shitty dream, and everything was okay now.

"Did I wake you?" It was way too early to be up yet. Jeremy wanted to go back to sleep, but he was almost afraid to, in case the nightmare wasn't over. Squip cupped his cheek.

"No, I was already awake."

"Okay." He sighed, hands slowly sliding up Squip's back, lifting his head to kiss his cheek. "Good."

Squip lifted him up a little more, straddling Jeremy's lap, and brushed their lips together, slow and light, and Jeremy closed his eyes, taking a breath. He felt better now, safe, nothing but relieved, and he kissed Squip again, slow and syrupy, every little brush of fingers across his skin lulling him back to sleep. Jeremy tilted his head and sluggishly curled his fingers against Squip's hips, lazily holding him there, ready to comfortably doze off to the way he was kissing his neck, but Squip grazed his teeth along that spot above his shoulder, making him shiver, and Jeremy was a little more awake now.

"That isn't fair..." Jeremy mumbled it into Squip's shoulder, feeling the vibration of his chest as he chuckled quietly.

"You were falling asleep on me," his voice was light and teasing, and Jeremy groaned a little, in both annoyance and compliance. Fine, two could play at that game. While Squip teasingly assaulted his neck, slow and deliberate, making him dizzy, Jeremy rolled his hips against Squip, pushing up against his lap.

Jeremy was still sleepy, still wrapped up in comforting warmth, but he could do this, grind up slowly against Squip, drinking in the soft moans the movement elicited, losing himself to the tender way Squip's teeth dragged across his exposed skin, the nightmare a distant memory, far away. All he needed was the heat, the friction, sleepy and careful. Jeremy kept his hands on Squip's hips, pressing up, up, up, until it was enough to push him over, and he could feel Squip shudder with him, against him, hands palming his back.

He was drifting, drifting into the delicate rays of early morning light bleeding through the curtains, only faintly aware of his fingers curling into Squip's hair, of his lips still pressed against his skin.

He woke up some hours later, the room much brighter, no longer dawn but solidly day, and Jeremy was surprised to see Squip still there in bed with him, fingers curving up and down his spine. He was usually out on the porch by now, waiting for him to finally drag himself out of bed. It was a pleasant surprise. Squip smiled as he blinked himself awake, and Jeremy curled in a little closer.

"Good morning." Jeremy could hear gulls outside the window, somewhere over them, enjoying the ocean breeze. Squip ran a finger along his jaw.

"Good morning to you, too."

"You didn't have to stay." Jeremy lightly tugged on a strand of Squip's hair. It was getting longer; guess it did grow like a normal person's. Maybe just a little slower. Weird.

"I did." Squip tucked Jeremy's head under his chin, holding him there. "It was my fault."

"No it wasn't." Jeremy tried to look up at him, but Squip was holding him firmly. "It was just a nightmare. They happen." That particular one happened more often than he'd like, but it had been a long time since it'd made a reappearance.

"I'm sorry I left you," Squip said it quietly, softly, full of regret.

"You had to." Jeremy had accepted that fact a while ago, even if he hadn't liked it. "It's okay."

It was okay, so long as he was here now. That's all that mattered. Squip pressed his forehead into Jeremy's shoulder, hand in his hair.

"I love you. Do you know that?"

Jeremy could feel his face heating up, a stupid grin growing on his face, chest fluttering.

"Yeah, I know that. You think I'm stupid?" Jeremy squirmed his way a little closer against him, grinning more at the way Squip grumbled under his breath in response. "I love you, too."

Squip stilled for a moment, then rolled over, dragging Jeremy with him until Squip was on his back and Jeremy was sprawled on top of him. Jeremy pushed himself up and stared down at him.

"You need a shower." Squip teased, patting Jeremy's cheek. He scowled and dragged himself off the bed.

It took everything in his power to keep himself from practically skipping into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bonus chapter!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237045/chapters/41974946#workskin)


	13. Chapter 13

"Jeremy, what are you doing? You need to count the steps."

They were standing barefoot in the sand, Jeremy clinging to Squip as he tripped over his own feet, trying to remember when he was supposed to step back or to the side. Learning the Viennese Waltz was a lot more complicated than he thought it'd be.

"Okay, you're counting from one-two-three to two-two-three. And then three-two-three? It's confusing."

"You're overthinking it." Squip stepped forward and Jeremy almost forgot to move back. They had to make a box with their feet or something? This was weird. He'd never been good at this kind of thing.

"That's your right foot. You're supposed to step back with your left."

"Oh, _right._ Right. I knew that."

Squip rolled his eyes, but there was a faint, amused smirk to his lips.

"Do we have to go over the basics again? Do you not know your right from your left, is that the problem?"

Jeremy made a face, a slight scowl, concentrating on where his feet were going and where they needed to be.

"Are we, uh, supposed to be doing this in sand?"

"No, but there isn't nearly enough room inside."

It was dark out now. There was a strong breeze coming off the ocean, threatening to smother the flames from the firepit next to them. Jeremy glanced at it, trying not to overthink or whatever, letting Squip lead the whole thing. Back, side, turn, forward, side, turn, back... This wasn't so bad. Maybe he was getting it after all? The flames leaped up into the air, embers swirling in the breeze, almost like it was dancing along with them.

"You're stepping on my foot."

Jeremy paused, then looked down. He'd misstepped, again, and his foot had stomped down on Squip's toes. He was staring at him in annoyance and Jeremy smiled apologetically.

"Shit. Sorry."

"You're hopeless."

"I'm not! This is just, you know, hard."

"We'll try again later." Squip leaned in, gently kissing him, then let him go. He sat down, near the fire, and Jeremy dropped down next to him. "With music next time, I think."

When Jeremy's phone started to ring e shifted a little where he sat and pulled it out of his pocket. Why was Michael calling?

"Hey, Michael. Why're you calling so late?"

"When're you planning on coming home?"

"Uh, I don't know. Soon, I guess?"

"Okay, because, just in case you forgot, the semester starts in two weeks."

Jeremy went silent. Shit, did it really? Had he and Squip really been here at this beach house for practically a month? It couldn't really have been that long. It didn't nearly feel that long.

"Shit, are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. Also, your dad keeps coming by and I have to make up excuses about where you are. I'm pretty sure he knows I'm lying now."

"Fuck, sorry, man. I'll, uh. I'll be back soon."

"With Silas."

"...Yeah. With Silas."

"Just checking. Does your dad know about him yet?"

"No..." A moment ago Jeremy had been thinking about spending the next whenever trying to learn to waltz in the sand and remembering they needed to do laundry, and what they were going to do for dinner tomorrow, and nothing else mattered. Suddenly the weight of reality came crashing down on his head, all at once. He had to go home. He had to buy his textbooks. He still had to unpack his things, probably, and figure out a way to introduce Squip to his dad without making it weird. He had to go to work (if he even still had a job after all this, he'd completely blanked on that one). At least his mom had included a credit card in the envelope she'd given them. He could still buy things even if he was jobless. Suddenly Jeremy's stomach was clenching, anxiety buzzing through him. Damn it. Shit. Fuck.

"You going to need me to help you with that?"

"No, I'll, uh. I'll figure it out. Hey. I'm going to call you back later, okay? Tomorrow."

"Jeremy, hang on-" But he was hanging up, shoving the phone in his pocket, and dropping down against the sand with a groan.

"Something wrong?"

"I just remembered that I have responsibilities and shit."

Squip leaned over him. "I was wondering when that was going to occur to you."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You were enjoying yourself too much."

"Fuuuuuck." Jeremy frowned up at the sky. He didn't want to go to school or act like a responsible human being. He wanted to stay here forever. He sighed heavily. "Guess I'll call Alex tomorrow."

Squip gently tapped his nose. "Responsible. I like it."

Jeremy stuck out his tongue, wrinkling his nose, and Squip just laughed. Guess learning how to dance properly was going to have to wait.

* * *

Alex arrived bright and early, before the sun even rose, and they both shuffled into the back.

"What, not going to join me up front?" Alex looked in the rearview mirror to stare at them.

"I like the back." Jeremy sunk down into the seat, eyes on the phone in his lap, letting Michael know they'd be in New Jersey soon. Really early in the morning, probably. The list of things he knew he had to do once he got home was making him dizzy. He had a whole day of nothing to worry about it, too.

Jeremy had always enjoyed car rides, but the drive home was long and grueling. The closer they came to their final destination, the more anxiety bubbled to life, a flame flickering in his inside. He tried to sleep it off a few times, but he felt too antsy and awake; not even Squip's fingers soothingly running through his hair helped. When the signs and roads became more familiar, the anxiety sank into dread, and Jeremy honestly didn't know why. Pulling up to their apartment complex felt like entering a new dimension entirely. It was surreal, almost, to be somewhere so dull and normal after how hectic summer had been.

He shook it off, though, and pulled himself out of the car, a bag over his shoulder. He'd been expecting to say their goodbyes and Alex would leave them to begin their new normal, but he got out of the car with the both of them.

"Uh... We don't really need any help with the bags, so."

"I want to say hi to Michael."

Jeremy stared at him. "I don't- I mean- he's _probably_ sleeping, we shouldn't..."

"Don't worry about it, I texted him, he said it was fine for me to come in and say hi."

"...Oh. Well, uh. Sure, then." That was _weird_ , but fine, Jeremy wasn't going to argue with him about it. "It's not much, but, um..." He opened the door to the apartment, expecting it to be dark, but the lights were on. It was also a mess. Michael had clearly made a dent in it, but the rest of the mess was Jeremy's, boxes pushed against the wall and spilling out of his room. He couldn't even begin to fathom tackling any of that right now. Was Squip going to judge him? He hoped not. Jeremy kicked off his shoes at the door, glancing at Squip.

"I don't care about the apartment, Jeremy. This is perfectly adequate for someone your age."

"Adequate? I don't know, I think that's a little _too_ courteous." Michael was lounging on the couch, watching some old cheesy Dinsey movie he remembered watching on TV as a kid and had completely forgotten existed. He was grinning, and Jeremy had never been more relieved to see him.

"Long time no see, Michael." He'd gotten up and given Jeremy a hug, and Jeremy squeezed him in return.

"Okay, so like, you need to tell me what all went down, you were gone for a _month_."

"Can that wait until later? I'm really tired."

"Yeah." Michael patted his back and pulled away, and briefly, he looked like he was going to make some kind of joke, but he looked to Alex instead. "...Hey."

"Yo." Alex was grinning at him, draping an arm around his shoulders and walking them over to Michael's room. "I got you something."

"What?"

Alex fished around his pocket and pulled out a CD. " _This._ "

"No way."

" _Yes_ way. You said you were having trouble finding a copy so I used my cyborg magic to get one..."

Jeremy just stood there and stared as Michael disappeared into his room with Alex. That was... not what he'd been expecting. Okay. Sure. He'd think about the implications later. The unpacking would have to wait until tomorrow. He was _exhausted_ and it was late, anyway. He collapsed down on his bed, not even caring that there weren't even any sheets on it yet, and refused to move until Squip forcibly peeled him off.

"If you're not going to do it, _I'll_ do it." Which was nice of him, he didn't have to do that, Jeremy was perfectly happy to just sleep on an unmade mattress with a pillow and a blanket... "Exhaustion isn't an excuse to be a slob."

Whatever.

He slept until noon, and by then, Alex was gone. It wasn't as weird as he thought it was going to be, honestly. He woke up and things were just... kind of normal. Nothing had changed, really, except his location. And... Squip was actually here, alive, in his apartment, and for a minute Jeremy just needed to lay there and grin up at the ceiling, thinking about it. It was real. _Really_ real. The only thing that eventually convinced him to drag himself out of bed was the smell of pancakes leaking in through his door. He stepped out and Michael was sitting at the table with a plate of food, in complete silence, staring at his phone. He looked up when Jeremy sat down, grinning.

"Finally."

"It... it was a long trip." Jeremy glanced at the plate in front of Michael. "Did you make that?"

"No, uh, Silas did."

"Really?" He didn't know why he was so surprised about that. They mostly went out to eat when they were at the beach, but Squip had actually cooked a few times, and it was good, considering he'd never actually done it before.

Michael chewed on a bite of pancake. "He's been in there all morning."

"Oh." Jeremy glanced over Michael's shoulder to look into the kitchen. He could only see Squip's back. "I'll be right back."

Michael nodded as Jeremy stood up and shuffled from carpet to cold kitchen tile.

"Good morning." He saw Squip smile a little, expertly flipping a pancake in the pan like he'd been doing it his whole life. What a showoff. "How did you sleep?"

"Normal, I guess." The uncooked side of the pancake landed in the pan with a sizzle.

"I unpacked your things for you, by the way. You can rearrange it all however you want."

"What, seriously?"

"Did you really not notice?"

He hadn't. The boxes were stacked neatly in the hall and he hadn't actually thought anything of it. How did Squip not end up waking him? He really must have been dead to the world.

"No. But thanks."

"Here." Squip shoved a plate of pancakes at him. "Eat, and then we'll devise a system to take care of the things you need to do before school starts."

"Oh." Jeremy couldn't help but crack a smile, the dregs of anxiety remaining from yesterday melting into nothing. "Sounds great."

* * *

He'd spent the afternoon arranging his clothes, sorting through them, trying to decide what was worth keeping and what wasn't. He'd remembered Christine's tip about setting things aside that he no longer needed, but since Squip had already unpacked everything for him... He came across a pair of socks, ugly as sin, stuck together with the original store tags. Holy shit, he'd almost forgotten about these. He held them up a little, and then he heard Squip behind him.

"Jeremy, I knew your fashion sense was terrible, but those are _atrocious._ "

He slowly grinned, turning around to face Squip, still holding up the socks.

"You know, that's exactly what I thought you'd say."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He fiddled with them a little. It was such an ugly brownish-green color, and they had white stripes and what he _thought_ might have been some kind of star pattern, but he wasn't really sure. "It's why I bought them. It made me think of you, in a good way, and it was nice. Usually, I just got sad, but I saw these ugly socks and just started laughing, I think I freaked Christine."

Squip had wrapped his arms around him, chin resting on Jeremy's shoulder, looking up at him.

"I suppose I can give them a pass, then." Squip plucked the socks out of his hand, but instead of putting them in the drawer, he just tossed them over his shoulder onto the ground.

"Hey! At least put them _away_ , jeez."

"Don't worry about that." Squip moved his hands to Jeremy's hips and pulled him in, against him, and held him there. Jeremy flushed.

"What?"

"Nothing." But the mischievous little smirk Squip gave him clued him into the fact that 'nothing' was utter bullshit. Squip pressed a few kisses to his neck, slow and tender at first, then there were teeth, until Jeremy shuddered and pressed against Squip with a groan. He didn't protest, either, when Squip moved them over to the bed, hands already halfway up his shirt, letting him press Jeremy down against the mattress, kiss him wherever he wanted. Then Squip ground their hips together and suddenly Jeremy was highly aware of how small the room was, and how thin the walls were, and the fact they weren't alone in the apartment. His bedroom door wasn't even closed all the way! It was sitting slightly ajar.

"W-wait." Squip stopped moving and looked down at him, frowning, though it was more a pout, and he trailed a finger down Jeremy's chest. "Michael's, you know... home."

"So?"

" _So_!" Jeremy blushed a little more. "He'll hear."

"You weren't exactly concerned about the noise you were making at your mother's."

Jeremy’s face felt so hot he might as well be melting. No one had ever said anything, was he that loud? _Fuck_. But Squip’s mouth is on him again and that distracts him temporarily. Jeremy’s hands wrapped around Squip’s shoulders and he could almost just close his eyes and forget, but then there’s a clatter from the kitchen, Michael doing dishes, and Jeremy panicked. 

“When… When Michael leaves, we can…”

“Oh, good. We’ll never have sex again, then.” 

“Jesus Christ, could you be any more dramatic?” Jeremy made a face and bit his lip, turning his head away, but he didn’t move or get up or push Squip away. Was he being ridiculous? Maybe. Michael already knew this was part of the package, he shouldn’t be so embarrassed, they’d been friends for, what, fifteen years at least? And Squip was still on top of him, caressing a thumb under his jaw and down the side of his throat…

“The only one being dramatic here is you.” Squip’s voice was teasing, and he said it way too close to Jeremy’s ear. Squip’s other hand snaked down his side, over his hip, playfully brushing against his inner thigh, and Jeremy knew this was going to be a losing battle. Sorry, Michael, he’d tried. Squip shifted a little, to give himself room to properly rub his palm against Jeremy’s crotch. Squip licked his ear. “Do you still want me to stop?”

Jeremy shook his head, just slightly, trying to keep his mouth shut and stay quiet (he had _that_ to worry about now), but Squip didn’t seem to think that was good enough. His hand stopped moving and Jeremy frowned.

“I didn’t hear you.” Squip pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Tell me what you want, Jeremy.”

Who knew someone could get dizzy while laying down?

“N-no.” Jeremy only had so much willpower. He considered it something to work on in the future, somewhere in the back of his mind, but definitely not today. “Keep doing that.”

Clearly satisfied with his answer, Squip kiss down Jeremy’s shoulder, and he kept Squip in place, relishing in his weight against him, and by the time both of them were naked, clothes strewn all over the floor that had only just been cleaned, Jeremy had completely forgotten about the door. 

Squip leaned over him, pinning Jeremy’s hands over his head, and he couldn’t get over how hot Squip looked on top of him, Jeremy inside him, hips moving up and down. He groaned as he watched Squip, half-lidded, teasingly slow the pace. Jeremy had been trying to be quiet, but he kept _forgetting_ , and it was probably too late now. Squip was much better, whispering Jeremy’s name where his mouth sucked his skin. Jeremy wanted to touch him, but Squip wouldn’t let him, not until he’d finished, and Squip finally released his hands. 

Jeremy grabbed him and pulled Squip down against him, face in his shoulder. 

“I, um. I guess this is fine.” Squip didn’t say anything and Jeremy, now catching his breath, quickly added, “I mean, about… sex in the apartment.” Probably not any better. He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

“I hope so. If Michael wasn’t aware before, he’s certainly aware now.” 

He was glad he had his face hidden in Squip’s shoulder, because he was blushing again, and Squip didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

* * *

Going back to work was the _worst_. He had to, they had to make rent somehow, but after not going for so long it was kind of weird, and it was also weird to have to be away from Squip. The first time Jeremy had left, Squip tried to follow him, and that had been a borderline awkward conversation.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going with you.”

“...You can’t come to work with me.”

Squip paused and looked as if he hadn’t actually considered that before.

“Of course.” But he waved it off, so Jeremy assumed he was fine with it. “Let me know what you want for dinner, later. Does Michael mind asparagus?”

They could still communicate, but Jeremy was stuck here at a boring retail job ringing up customers and Squip was... back at the apartment, alone, or with Michael, if he happened to be home. It wasn't like before; before all of this, Squip had always been with him. He'd just been a projection in his head, but he was still _there_ , a permanent presence in his life. Now they were actually separated, and it made him a little anxious.

_Jeremy, stop worrying. It's only a few hours._

-I know, but...-

Jeremy stared at the time on his phone. He'd only been at work for two hours. It felt like longer. What if… what if something happened, while he was away? What was Squip doing? He was probably reading, but it definitely sucked being in the apartment all alone all the time. This was weird. He hoped he'd get used to it.

And he did. By the time the new semester started Jeremy had become accustomed to leaving in the morning, either for school or work and returning to a clean apartment and a meal (which, for some odd reason, tended to be soup more often than not, but it was tasty and he didn't have to make it, so who was he to complain...), and then he'd settle down for the night with Squip. Even Michael seemed to be getting used to it, some kind of a step above toleration, but he'd set ground rules, the most important of which was _not_ going into his room. Squip had actually cleaned it, once, while Michael was out of the apartment.

"Yeah, so, I appreciate it, but also, don't ever do it again."

That was that.

He easily fell back into their old routine of unwinding after a long day by playing video games with Michael. At first, Squip just sat back and watched, occasionally chiding Jeremy for procrastinating on his homework. Then, once, they'd needed a third person to get some kind of achievement, and Michael dug out a third controller from a closet, allowing Squip to join in. But it was only supposed to be a one-time thing, which turned into an occasional thing, and eventually a regular thing. Michael didn't seem totally willing to admit it, but he didn't seem to have any complaints about it anymore, besides the fact that Squip was still a supercomputer and allowing him to play could be considered cheating. Oh well.

A couple weeks into the semester and Jeremy could tell Squip was starting to get a little frustrated. He left for school one morning and Squip was bugging him incessantly, about things he'd forgotten to take with him and to remember to stop and get the oil in his car changed before he got home, and constantly asking what he wanted for dinner, if he'd rather have something else instead. He was in the middle of a quiz and Squip was _still_ bugging him.

-You know you don't _have_ to stay in the apartment all day. You can leave. It's fine. I got you a spare key.-

_What exactly am I supposed to do?_

It'd never occurred to him that Squip wouldn't really... know how to function if left to his own devices. Before it hadn't really mattered, because he'd always just been in his head and he _couldn't_ do much of anything else. Now, though... Now he _could_ , and besides video games, which was something Jeremy had introduced him to, and sort of forced on him, technically, Squip didn't have any hobbies or anything.

-You could... I don't know. There's a bookstore? Take a walk. Get coffee. Read a book. Get a job.-

Jeremy had meant the last one as a joke.

_Am I bothering you?_

Shit. Jeremy quickly scribbled down one of his quiz answers.

-I mean, I'm kind of busy with school stuff...-

He couldn't tell if Squip sounded upset or not.

_I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone then._

Jeremy felt a little bad, but he hoped he'd actually take his advice. There actually _was_ a bookstore within walking distance of their apartment, but he'd kept hearing rumors that it was going to close. If anything, there was still a library Squip could go to. And despite all that, he was still surprised when he got home and Squip wasn't there.

"Squip?" Jeremy looked into the bedroom, but it was dark and empty.

"He left a while ago," Michael called over to him from the couch, a twizzler hanging out the side of his mouth.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Nope."

He must have taken his advice, then, and go to the bookstore, and Jeremy decided not to bother him. He had a stupid group project to work on, anyway, and it's not like that was schoolwork Squip could really help him with. But then it was late, almost 10, and Squip _still_ hadn't come home. Or tried to talk to him, even, and that made him nervous.

-Where did you go?-

_I'll be home soon. I have to finish something._

-A book?-

_No. A job._

-A _job_?-

Was he joking? Jeremy had been kidding, earlier, he hadn't actually _meant_ it.

_Yes, I'll be home before you go to bed._

Jeremy just stared at the paper he was writing for a while, trying to figure out what the heck kind of job Squip would have found within a few hours, and decided he'd ask about it later. He'd been true to his word, though, and was home before Jeremy dumped himself in bed for the rest of the evening.

"So. You got a job."

"Two jobs, actually. Three, if you count today, but it was a one-time thing."

Jeremy stared. "What."

Squip set a plastic bag down on the counter. Jeremy ignored it.

"I went to the bookstore as you suggested. They needed a cashier. I inquired about it and they hired me."

"What, how, you don't even have a resume." Jeremy was reeling, how the _hell_ did he do this so quickly?

"Your mother wrote up a rather impressive resume for me. It's in the folder she gave us."

"And you chose a cashier at a bookstore?"

Squip shrugged. "Dull, but part-time, and I'm allowed to read if there aren't customers."

"So... what's the other one? You said you got _two_ jobs?" Actually, he'd said 'technically three', but Jeremy still couldn’t get over how quickly he got the first one.

"Data entry, a place down the street. It's so easy a child could do it, honestly, but it kills time."

"Jesus Christ. Well, uh, good... good for you, I'm glad." He was, honestly, so long as Squip wasn't miserable with the arrangement. "What else did you do today?"

"I walked dogs."

"Okay, now you're just fucking with me."

"No, I'm not. I needed something that would get me cash right away."

"For _what?_ "

Squip pointed to the plastic bag on the counter. It looked like there was a box inside of it.

"I bought that for you."

Jeremy tentatively reached for it and looked inside. He stared for a good thirty seconds.

"You bought a Nintendo Switch?" He had Michael's attention now; he was looking at them from his spot in front of the TV. "You got two jobs and walked enough dogs to afford _this_ in _one day_?"

"I'm a supercomputer, Jeremy. You expect less of me?" Squip was smirking at him now, in amusement, and Jeremy just held onto the plastic bag dumbly. No way, _no way_. Impossible. That was way too much for a person to accomplish--but then again, Squip wasn't a regular person.

"So you're going to start paying rent, right?" Michael eyed the both of them, his tone mostly teasing, like he didn't actually expect Squip to say yes. Squip looked over his shoulder at him.

"I'm not a freeloader, Michael. Of course I'll pay rent."

Michael raised a hand defensively, then grinned. “You’re becoming a real team player, Silas.” 

“Okay, wait, explain to me again how you got three jobs in one day?”

“Jeremy, buddy, maybe it’s better if we don’t know.”

Well, if _Michael_ thought so…

Dog walking, though? Jeremy couldn’t even imagine it.


	14. Chapter 14

"--from the tempest of my eyes."

Jeremy stood there, staring like a deer in headlights at Brooke. An uncomfortable minute of silence passed and Brooke was frowning at him.

"Jeremy, it's your line." She whispered it, discreetly, from behind her hand.

"Oh. Right. Uh..." Shit, what was his line again? If he fucked this up, Christine would _never_ like him.

"Mr. Heere," Mr. Reyes hissed at him from the side of the stage, " _Ay me!_ "

Jeremy straightened quickly. "Ay me! For aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth; but, either it was different in blood,--" He was sweating from the heat of the stage lights; it felt like they were burning into his skin, and the sweat rolled down his back, causing the costume to stick unpleasantly. At least he remembered his lines now...

"O cross! Too high to be enthrall'd to low." Brooke walked off to the other side of the stage, away from him, and Jeremy felt very exposed, suddenly. He was alone, in the spotlight, his least favorite place of all his least favorite places.

Wait, wasn’t there supposed to be zombies in this?

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

Jeremy practically jumped where he stood. Those absolutely were _not_ the next lines, and he didn’t recognize the voice, either. He spun on his heel, trying to find whoever was speaking. 

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended: that you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear; and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend.”

“Hello?” There was no one on the stage with him. Even Mr. Reyes had left; he could smell the scent of Hot Pockets drifting in from backstage. He heard footsteps behind him and Jeremy looked over his shoulder, unnerved. 

“Jeremy Heere.” A man stood there now, and despite standing directly beneath the stage lights, he seemed permanently cast in shadow. Jeremy couldn’t see his face, but the man held a hand out to him. “Tell me who I am.”

“I- I don’t know?” This was creepy, definitely not in the script, and they had to be too old to be in high school. Except now that he thought about it, he wasn’t in high school anymore, either… The man was still holding out his hand, beckoning Jeremy to take it; he grimaced at it, not sure what to do. They stood there, patiently, unmoving, and every time Jeremy tried to look at his face he heard a loud buzzing in his ears, vibrating through his skull, electric down his spine. It didn’t hurt, but it was certainly uncomfortable.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.” The opposite, actually. The guy was creepy, sure, but he felt completely at ease, standing here on the stage with him. Jeremy hesitated, then slowly, carefully, took his hand. He still couldn’t see his face--Jeremy had stopped trying to look, honestly--but for some reason, he was certain the shadowed stranger was smiling.

“Ḯ̛̤̳͈̮ͯ ̝̙͙̩̙͓ͫͣͅr̥͈ͥͯ̏ͬ̈͢ẽ̟̹̜̂̿̾͛ͩͅa̙l̛̮̠̙̖̣̲̐ͧl̡̯̿y͉̠͞ ̠̫̺ͬ̏͊̑c̘͇̳̗ͬͨa̛ͤ́ͣn̬͈̱̲̰̺ͭ̄̓͠’̠̱̩̜̬̮͛̌͑t̠̯̙̑ͣͬ̀ͯ̑̑͞ ͪ̔͌͟w̞̱͂͠a̶̠͑ͦ̉̐ȉ̈́ͦ̓̆t̺͓̜̀̓̔͆̃.̩̱̪̝̈͆͂̚.”

“Uh... what?” He heard a door slam, a startling _BANG_ in his ears, and Jeremy nearly pulled back, but he couldn’t move. The stage dissolved, transformed into a long hallway, lined with doors, erupting out of the ground and surrounding the both of them. He hunched his shoulders, taking a quick look around. The doors all looked identical, bland and wooden and white, and when Jeremy looked back at the stranger in front of him, they were suddenly uncomfortably close. He wanted to move away, but they leaned in, whispering in his ear; Jeremy couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

It was important. He needed to hear it, to understand, but there was some kind of interference there, causing the air to shimmer and shudder around him until it all shattered like glass.

 _I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, to die upon the hand I love so well._

“Jeremy...”

He groaned and blinked awake, mouth dry, groggy and disoriented. It’d been light out when he’d decided to take a nap. It was getting dark. 

“If you keep sleeping, we’re going to be late.” Jeremy felt Squip’s fingers brush lightly through his hair, but it took him a minute or two to fully get his wits about him. He really hadn’t meant to take such a long nap. What time was it? What _day_ was it?

“What’re we late for?” He closed his eyes and frowned while Squip delicately drew a line with his finger down the middle of Jeremy’s face, stopping at the tip of his nose.

“We’re having dinner with your father.”

“Oh, _fuck_.” He bolted upright and threw the blanket off of him, abuzz with anxiety. Shit, fuck, shit, he’d completely forgotten. He had to introduce Squip to his dad tonight and have dinner and pretend everything was normal and that he hadn’t spent the summer with his estranged, mad scientist mom. Squip stared at him as he wandered around the bedroom, picking up a shirt and throwing it aside to pick up another one, pulling it haphazardly over his head and then glancing around the room for… something. Fuck. There was something he was going to bring and now he couldn’t remember.

“Jeremy. Relax.”

Jeremy threaded his fingers through his hair, irritably. “I’m completely relaxed.” Squip’s eye roll was practically audible, but Jeremy ignored it. “I just— just need a minute.”

“What are you looking for?”

“The- the _thing._ ”

“That doesn’t help. What thing?”

"The thing I was... For Dad. _That_ thing!" It had a name, he was just frazzled and still mildly disoriented and he couldn't think straight, frantically looking under and over everything in his room.

"Oh, you mean the pictures? They're in the car."

Jeremy stopped, shoulders dropping. "Cool." He rubbed his face with his hands, taking a breath. "Great. Thanks." He needed to calm down. It was just dinner. And... introducing his dad to his supercomputer robot boyfriend who used to live in his head and kind of died once. Not that they were going to bring up any of that, but what if his dad could tell he was lying? He didn't want to lie at all.

"It's just your dad, Jeremy. It'll be fine."

"Right. Just Dad."

They sat in the car for what felt like ages. It was stupid, but Jeremy was too nervous to get out. He kept fiddling with things in the car, checking his phone, checking and double checking that the box of old photos really _was_ in the car like Squip had said. He could do this. He'd introduced Christine to his dad and it had gone fine, he could easily do it again.

"We can't stay in here forever, Jeremy. Let's go." Squip grabbed the box of pictures from the backseat and got out of the car, leaving Jeremy behind to protest.

"What, wait- Where are you-- You can't go inside without me, hang on!" Jeremy quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and almost fell out of the driver's seat onto the driveway. Squip had already gotten to the door and rung the bell before Jeremy got there. A minute later the door swung open and there his dad stood--with pants; it'd been a few years, but Jeremy was always still a little nervous that his father would suddenly revert to not wearing any anymore, especially once he'd moved out and left his father alone.

"Son! You're late, I was expecting you at 18:00 sharp."

"...It's only ten after six, Dad."

"That's considered _late_ in the military. Who raised you?"

"Christ." Jeremy rubbed at his face, then motioned to Squip, who stood beside him with an obnoxiously amused look on his face. "Dad. This is... Silas."

Squip promptly held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Heere." 

No need to bring up the fact that Squip already knew who his dad was, of course. Jeremy stood there and watched as they shook hands, his father looking uncharacteristically serious. He strained to keep himself still when really he wanted to hop from foot to foot, or maybe just run down the street.

"Nice strong grip. That's good." But his dad was grinning now, which could only be a good thing. He stepped aside to give them room to enter. "I hope you like spaghetti. It's a secret family recipe."

"Since when do we have a secret family _anything_?" Jeremy kicked off his shoes at the door and ignored the irony of what he'd just said. They were currently pretending that everything was normal and ordinary, after all. "Oh, and, uh. I brought you something. I kind of found it when unpacking..." Which was a complete and utter lie. The pictures inside the box Squip was holding had actually come from his mom, tucked away inside a small envelope. They were all old pictures, most of them from when he was a baby, and a few pictures of his dad and mom together... It felt weird keeping them. He figured his dad might want them. Or not. His mom was still kind of a sore subject that never really got brought up. His dad had, supposedly, moved on, but it wasn't like he dated or went out much or...

Squip held out the box to his dad, who reached for it curiously but was disrupted by the familiar, angry sizzle of starchy water bubbling over and dripping down the sides of the pot on the stove.

"Shit, the spaghetti! Ah, damn it." Jeremy's dad turned around and walked quickly into the kitchen, leaving Squip standing there, arm outstretched, box still in hand.

"I guess we can leave it for later?"

"Mmm." Squip set it down on the nearby coffee table. "After dinner, then."

The pasta, thankfully, survived the eruption all over the stove, and Jeremy was now sitting awkwardly across the table from his dad, keeping his eyes averted and focused on the plate in front of him. The silence was near deafening and his leg was bouncing. Squip carefully reached under the table and placed a hand on his knee; the bouncing stopped.

"So..." His dad spun spaghetti around the tongs of his fork. "How did you two meet? Jeremy hasn't told me anything about you."

Jeremy nearly choked on his spaghetti as his mind went completely blank. They'd come up with an alibi, long before they'd actually made plans to introduce Squip to his dad, but now he couldn't remember any of it. He coughed until his eyes watered and he wiped at his mouth with a napkin. Squip, thankfully, took the reigns.

"We met in a shoe store at the mall." He lied smoothly and gracefully, a skill Jeremy wished he could magically grasp. Not that he liked to lie, especially not to his dad, but the truth would probably kill his dad prematurely. 

"You mean the Payless?"

"Yes, that's the one. We met in high school, technically." The corner of Squip's mouth curved into a smile, and only Jeremy would really know why. Jeremy could remember enough of their alibi to know this wasn't what they'd originally come up with, but it was close enough to the truth that it made him feel a little better. The _exact_ details didn't really matter, and he _had_ met Squip in a Payless... technically.

"You know, when I was a lad, I worked in a shoe store."

"Really."

"Kinney Shoes! They don't exist anymore, but it was the place to be when you were a teenager, and it was a great place to meet the ladies." His dad winked, and then there was an awkward pause. "Or I guess in your case, the other lads."

Jeremy sank down in his seat and made a conscious effort to hide behind his garlic bread. He decided he could just let Squip talk and charm the socks off of his dad or something, and he could focus on not looking suspicious. He couldn't kick the nervous twist in his stomach that his dad would realize he was deceived. What would he say if his dad confronted them? What _could_ he say? How could he possibly admit to his father that the mom who'd abandoned them had actually lied to them the entire time and then kidnapped him and his friends over the summer? Better yet, how was he going to explain _Squip._

_Jeremy._

Squip's voice in his head startled him enough that he nearly jumped in his seat.

_Your dad has no reason to suspect anything. However, your behavior is starting to concern him._

-Oh.-

Jeremy chewed slowly on the remainder of his spaghetti and risked a glance at his dad, who caught his eye and then looked away. Shit. He suddenly became extremely self-aware of all the fidgeting and frowning he was doing and tried to still himself. His dad probably thought he was on drugs or something. Maybe they should cut dinner short and get out of here before Jeremy sweat through his shirt...

"Hey, hey, you're my guest, you don't need to do the dishes."

"It's fine, I don't mind." At some point Squip had stood and started collecting the dishes from the table, leaving just his dad and him to sit there. Squip gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze as he passed him to walk to the sink.

"How about we talk in the living room, son?" 

Jeremy stared at his dad. Oh no, he looked serious, shit, fuck. All he could do was force a smile and nod.

"S-sure."

In the living room, Jeremy couldn't keep himself from fidgeting, eyes glued to his hands as he picked at his cuticles. What did his dad want to talk about? Did he figure out something was up after all? This had been a terrible idea, _fuck_ \--

"Now, I can't say I, you know, _get it_ ," his dad paused for a moment and Jeremy just stared at him dumbly, "but, I know this probably took a whole lotta guts. So I want you to know, that I don't care if you're gay or bipansexual or whatever it is kids call it these days." His dad slapped his hands down on his shoulders. "I might be an old man, but I'll always support you."

Jeremy just stood there, taking a moment to let what his dad just said to him sink in. Oh. _Oh._ His dad thought he was nervous because he brought a guy home? Holy _shit_. He'd been so caught up with everything else that this never even crossed his mind. 

"Um... Wow. Um, thanks, Dad." Jeremy smiled weakly. "That's good to know." His dad grinned in return and gave his shoulders a squeeze.

"I love you, son."

"Love you too, dad."

A few more moments of awkward silence and his dad finally pulled his hands away.

"Alright. Good talk." He cleared his throat. "So you said you brought something for me?"

"...Right." Jeremy quickly glanced around, spotted the box, grabbed it, and walked it back over. "It's just, um. I found these old pictures, and I didn't really know what to do with them, so I thought you'd want them, maybe?" What he really wanted to know was why his mom gave them to him at all, but that wasn't a question to ask here. His dad sat down on the couch and looked through the contents of the box. He heard his dad chuckle. 

"Embarrassing baby pictures! Now, why didn't I think of that?"

Jeremy walked behind the couch and peered over his dad's shoulder at the photos, a little nervous, worried how his dad might react to the ones with mom... but he didn't seem bothered by them at all, just picked through them, turning them over to read the dates on the back, then giving him some ridiculous story about when one of the pictures was taken. Squip joined them then, drying his hands on a towel, while his dad unstuck a photo from the back of an older picture of Jeremy as a baby, absolutely slathered in what seemed to be ketchup. 

_Charming. A slob from birth._

Squip was smiling to himself and Jeremy nudged him in the side with his elbow. 

-Go away, you already saw these.-

His dad was in the middle of telling a story about Jeremy's apparent condiment fetish as a baby, but he trailed to a stop when he finally took a look at the photo that had been stuck behind it. Jeremy didn't remember seeing that one when digging through the pictures back at the apartment. It had to be the oldest one in the box, and it was just a picture of his mom, younger than he'd ever seen her, smiling, standing in front of a house he didn't recognize. His dad frowned and turned it over, revealing faded, smudged writing. Jeremy had trouble reading it.

"Where did you say you found these again?"

Jeremy hesitated. "In one of the boxes after I moved?"

"Huh." He really wanted to ask why this one picture, in particular, seemed to bother him, but his dad abruptly dumped all the pictures back in the box and put on the lid. "You know what, I think I have VHS tapes of you up in the attic. Don't go anywhere. Silas, they're a hoot."

His dad stood up, box under his arm, and vanished down the hallway.

-That... was weird.-

_Mmm._

Squip glanced up at the ceiling as it creaked above them.

_Do you want to ask him about it?_

-No...-

He kind of did, but maybe it was better not to.

-Let's just. Enjoy the rest of the night, I guess.-

And maybe not try to die of embarrassment whenever his dad started playing those godawful videotapes, silently grateful they'd never come up when he was still dating Christine.


	15. Chapter 15

_Jeremy, are you busy?_

-Uh, well, I'm in the middle of a math test...-

It'd been a while since Squip had actually bothered him at school. He had two jobs now to keep him occupied while Jeremy wasn't there, so whatever it was Squip wanted, it was probably important.

-What's up?-

_Alex is here._

Jeremy froze, nearly dropping his pencil. He hadn't heard from Alex in _ages_ , what was he doing suddenly showing up? He hadn't even called. His mother hadn't mentioned anything about visiting.

-At the apartment? What does he want? Is Linda there, too?-

_No, it's just him. He says we're going to a Halloween party tonight._

-"We"?-

What the hell. It was Halloween, sure, but Jeremy had an opening shift at work tomorrow and he'd already been planning on staying in, playing Apocalypse of the Damned with Michael, and handing out candy, not going to a _party_ with _Alex._ Whose party were they even going to? He hadn't gone to a Halloween party since that disastrous one back in high school; just thinking about it gave him anxious flashbacks. The shit with Brooke and Chloe, almost getting clobbered by Jake, having that awful fight with Michael, the _fire_. He hadn't been there for the last part, but he'd felt the full force of the aftermath. Jeremy had officially sworn off of Halloween parties after that.

_Alex and I are getting costumes right now._

-You can't be serious. Please tell me you aren't serious.-

_I'm very serious._

Aaaauugggghhhhhhhh.

-You have fun. I'm not going.-

_I'm not going without you. Michael is coming too._

-What?-

This was news. All of this was news. Did Michael know that Michael was going? Probably not, considering Alex. He probably wouldn't know until he got home. Shit. He needed to finish up this math test so he could warn him. Jeremy scribbled down a few answers, sufficiently half-assing them, turned in the test, and left class. Squip and Alex were back from their impromptu costume buying session before Jeremy got home. He wasn't looking forward to what was coming.

"Look, I know you don't really _want_ to, but it'll be fun, I promise. Plus, I need you to meet someone."

"Meet someone? Someone _who_?" Jeremy was skeptical and honestly, he couldn't think who would be so important that he needed to be dragged to some stranger's party.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

"You- you know, I really hate this cryptic thing you do."

Michael was equally skeptical and equally annoyed with having his entire night disrupted. He was _especially_ irritated when Alex declared that Michael was his date.

"Uh. I never agreed to that."

"Too late, I already told them you were."

"Who? Who the hell did you tell?" Michael was rubbing at his eyes, glasses shoved out of the way and barely hanging onto his face. He eventually gave Jeremy a defeated look and all Jeremy could do was stare back.

"What're you all just sitting around for? Get in your costumes already."

Jeremy grumbled and stood up, walking to his room. Squip followed behind him.

"You're surprisingly chill about all of this."

Squip fished around inside a plastic bag. "I've learned the best way to deal with Alex is to humor him, even if I'm not exactly thrilled about it."

"Humor him. Okay. Right. I'll try that."

Jeremy had just decided on an old Obi-Wan costume he'd worn for Halloween a few years ago and still had stuffed in a box, and he had no idea what Michael was wearing or Alex for that matter. But then he turned around after struggling with the sleeves of his costume and giving it a sniff to make sure it wasn't all gross and musty or whatever, saw Squip, and just had to stare for a minute.

"That's what you're wearing?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Squip feigned disappointment, pouting, hands on his hips. He knew damn well Jeremy wasn't going to be disappointed about this, and now he was feeling a little embarrassed. Way to broadcast his kinks to the entire class; he could already imagine Michael’s face.

"N-no. It's great." More than great, Jeremy couldn't stop staring. He had bunny ears and he was pretty sure there was a fluffy tail attached to the black leotard he was wearing. There were fishnet stockings and heels and... wow. Squip was smirking at him now and Jeremy just flushed and finally looked away.

"Try to reign it in at the party, will you?"

"I make no promises."

He was suddenly feeling a whole lot better about the night.

The actual getting there was... interesting. Jeremy hadn't expected the drive to take an actual hour, and if he'd known that he probably would have peed or something before they left, and maybe he shouldn't have let Michael sit in the passenger seat. He looked nervous, in a generic wizard getup, staring out the window the entire time. Alex, for some ungodly reason, was a priest. He was anything but saintly, which was probably the joke or something. Jeremy didn't want to think about it too hard, he just wanted to get to the party, try not to look too obvious that he was watching Squip the whole night, and leave.

Somewhere in there, they were going to meet this mysterious new person that Alex had mentioned earlier. Apparently, they were the entire reason they were even going to this party, and it was important, so whatever. Maybe it was about time Jeremy got over his aversion to costume parties. What were the chances that this one would be an utter disaster? He glanced over at Squip sitting next to him, looking up at the ears on his head, and figured, you know, the chances were low, especially if Squip was dressed like _that._

It took Jeremy a minute or two to drink in everything when they actually got there. The party was at some _mansion_? He had literally never been in a house this big in his entire life and it was expertly decorated; whoever the host was, they'd clearly paid a professional to do it. Or at least Jeremy was pretty positive that's what rich people with huge houses did when decorating for the holidays.

"So... who actually owns this place?" Jeremy stared up at the cobweb all over the porch.

Alex shrugged. "No idea."

"No... What, so who invited you?"

"No one invited us."

"Wait, wait, are we crashing this party?"

"Yep!" Alex didn't seem bothered by this at _all_ , and Jeremy and Michael just glanced at each other. "Don't look so concerned. There are going to be so many people here, everyone will just assume we're friends of friends of friends, it's fine. You think I was invited to that New Year's party I met you at?"

Jeremy had never actually thought about that. Wow. They were doing this, then. Crashing some big Halloween party at a mansion. They had no idea who the hosts actually were. Cool. Squip threaded an arm through his as they stepped up into the house, practically balking at the number of people in the foyer alone. How did anyone even know enough people to fill a house this size? Maybe they weren't actually the only ones crashing...

Alex led them through the foyer and stopped them over by a wall. There was a giant painting hanging on it and Jeremy kind of squinted at it for a second. It was kind of creepy looking, just a house, someone looking out the window, but it was too small to actually see. He couldn't decide if this was a painting the people here left up all year around or if it was part of the Halloween decor.

"You guys just hang out. Mingle. Have fun. I'll be a few." Alex grinned at Jeremy and Squip, winked at Michael, then vanished into the crowd. Michael scratched at his fake beard.

"Well. At least this house is super decked out. That's pretty cool."

"Would you like a drink, Jeremy?" Squip murmured it in his ear and Jeremy tried to suppress a shiver. Michael was watching.

“S-sure, yeah.” Jeremy shuffled his feet a little, trying to not too obviously stare at Squip’s ass as he walked away. Michael thoughtfully stroked his beard.

“So, upgraded from catgirls to bunny girls, huh?”

“Michael, oh my god, shut up.”

“Listen, you can’t just expect me not to comment on this.”

Jeremy hoped no one around them was listening. Granted, they were in a sea of complete strangers and they didn’t seem all that interested in talking to them, but _still_. It was embarrassing for a complete stranger to know what he was, well, into. Even if he never saw them again in his life.

“What about you and Alex?”

Michael had been tapping on his phone, but he suddenly looked up.

“What about it?”

“So, like, are you…?”

“We aren’t a thing.” He was frowning, agitated. “You can’t actually think otherwise.”

“No! I was just. I don’t know. Have you talked to him?”

“Sort of.” Michael glanced in the direction Alex had gone. “I think he just gets off on making me uncomfortable.”

“That… honestly wouldn’t surprise me.” Out of everything, the idea that Alex had been created by his own mother was probably one of the most bizarre things so far. How did he even turn out this way? If Jeremy had ever behaved like Alex growing up he didn’t think he would’ve survived.

Thinking about his childhood was also weird, with everything he knew now.

Jeremy was thankfully distracted from his thoughts by something nudging his hand. He glanced down at the plastic cup Squip was handing him. He took it gratefully.

“Did you need anything, Michael?” Squip looked at him.

Michael looked momentarily surprised by the question. “No. I’m good.”

“You look uncomfortable.”

“I’m _good_. Really.” Michael fussed with the beard, squinted, then just pulled the thing off. “Can we find somewhere to sit or something?”

They did that, but it was a little difficult, considering the number of people and the very few places to sit. In the end, only Michael was sitting in an actual seat, and Jeremy was perched precariously on the ledge of a sofa.

“We’ve been here an hour, where did he go?”

“Alex? No idea. Maybe he left us here.”

“I doubt that.” Squip crossed his arms, lazily looking out amongst the crowd. The ears on his head were a little crooked and Jeremy was using everything in his power not to reach out and fix it. He didn’t want Squip to get any _ideas_.

“How do you know that?”

“I can sense him in the house. He’s upstairs, currently.”

“Maybe we should hunt him down?” Jeremy could see Michael’s leg bouncing anxiously, white beard abandoned in his lap.

"I dunno, it kind of seemed he wanted us to wait for him."

Squip was looking up at the ceiling. He looked a little confused, maybe a little concerned. Jeremy touched his arm.

"What's wrong?"

"There's another one of us here."

Michael looked over, brows knit. "Us? You mean, one of you guys?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean." Squip's eyes were trailing across the ceiling, as if he could see Alex above them, through the floor. Jeremy briefly wondered if he had x-ray vision. (Which was stupid, because he would have told him that, right?) "They're heading down here."

"Finally." Michael exhaled a little. Jeremy felt a little uncomfortable, too. Wasn't this something Alex really should have informed them of before? Why did it all have to be so secretive? He thought the other squip androids didn't interact with each other for safety reasons? Were they actually in some kind of danger? His mind was suddenly racing.

_Relax, Jeremy._

Jeremy frowned, glancing up at Squip, who was still looking up and away and tried to think of anything else. Like how hot Squip looked in his costume.

Okay. Maybe that was a bad idea, too.

When Alex finally resurfaced, he had a woman with him. She was tall, the tallest out of all of them, hair long and curly, skin dark. And... she was in some kind of dress. A burger dress? A sexy burger? Jeremy was having flashbacks to Brooke's sexy dog and Chloe's sexy baby costumes. She had a tight smile, eyeing all three of them, wary. Alex was all smiles as he pushed her closer to the group.

"Hey, so this is Imogen. Everyone say, 'Hello, Imogen'!"

"Hi?" Jeremy smiled uncertainly. She didn't look exactly happy to be here, or maybe she just didn't want to talk to them? And it was only then that Jeremy realized Alex had changed his costume. He wasn't a priest anymore. He was... it looked familiar, but Jeremy couldn't quite put his finger on who he was supposed to be now. He was in some kind of weird jumpsuit, with a bowler hat, and what, was that fake eyelashes under one eye? Where had Alex even gotten that costume? He hadn't brought anything inside with him.

Michael waved, and when Imogen looked at Squip, they locked eyes briefly, and then Squip nodded, smiling a little.

"Nice to meet you, Imogen."

She looked away, glancing between Jeremy and Michael. It looked like she was studying them, and both of them shrank back a little.

"Is that supposed to be him?" Imogen pointed at Jeremy, head turned toward Alex and speaking as if Jeremy were some inanimate object she was curious about. She had an accent. British, maybe?

"Yeah. The one and only." Alex was looking weirdly proud, chest puffed out, grinning.

"Not very impressive. Are you sure you haven't made a mistake?"

Jeremy scrunched his face. Wow. What was this? Was he here to be insulted by strange squips? Squip had a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and Jeremy glanced at the fluffy tail attached to his backside, suddenly distracted.

"I don't make mistakes," Alex was responding.

"Now _that's_ definitely not true." Michael countered, arms crossed now. Alex glanced over, lips pursed.

"That's my date."

"I'm not his date."

"This conversation is a waste of time. Do they know everything?" Imogen tapped her foot impatiently.

"What's with you today? Relax. You said you were okay with this." Alex nudged her a little with a slight frown, looking her over as if he was confused by her behavior. He looked serious, and he never looked serious. Was she not normally this strung out? Jeremy assumed she wanted to be here as much as the rest of them, which wasn't much at all. "Where's Sophie, anyway? You said she was coming."

"I'm not allowing Sophie to be involved with _you_ people." Imogen's voice was defensive. Sharp. She was staring straight at Jeremy. He winced a little under the withering look.

" _You_ people?" Alex made a face. "Sophie would be a _vegetable_ if it weren't for us, thanks."

They were arguing a little now and Jeremy didn’t care to listen. He looked back at Squip, smiling. He looked really good in that outfit; Jeremy wanted to touch him, probably a lot more than was appropriate for a public place (definitely a lot more), and he thought about what it’d be like to take it off… but he heard a noise. A faint clicking noise, constant, persistent, somewhere in the back of his head. It reminded him of the clicking death noise his hard drive had made that one time it’d died. No, actually, that’s _exactly_ what it sounded like. Jeremy looked around, confused, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from, but he couldn’t see an actual computer anywhere. The speakers, possibly? Monster Mash was currently booming out around them for what felt like the millionth time already, and he still couldn’t find the source of the noise. It sounded like it was coming from right behind him…

Jeremy turned a little from where he sat, shifting to look behind him, and he still couldn’t see anything— except then he caught someone in the crowd, a short distance away, body turned toward the group of them. He couldn’t see their face; they wore a mask, one of those horse masks, and there were at least four other people at this party he’d seen with one, but something about it really unnerved him. It looked like they were staring at them, at _him,_ but why? The longer he looked at them the louder the clicking noise got, and—

“Jeremy?”

Michael touched his arm, immediately grabbing his attention. He turned back around to face the group when Michael motioned to them, clicking sound gone and immediately forgotten. Alex was speaking, but Imogen caught his attention. She was looking at him, frowning, almost... conflicted. Maybe he was imagining it.

“Let’s have this conversation elsewhere. I have a private room for us.” Imogen abruptly interrupted Alex, who seemed surprised.

“Shit, really? Why didn’t you say so? C’mon, let’s go.”

Imogen wasn’t looking at him anymore. She’d turned and walked away, leading the gaggle of them off down a hallway, around a corner, to a room. She pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open for them. The room was mostly empty. It looked like just an extra room for storage, maybe. There was a glass coffee table, an empty aquarium, a few stools stacked on top of each other, a few boxes. Alex easily set down a few of the stools, scooting one over to Michael first.

When Jeremy sat down, Squip seemed to have decided that the best possible place for him to go was Jeremy’s lap. It caught him by surprise, and he blushed.

-What… What are you doing?-

_Sitting._

-I _see_ that, but why… It’s...-

_You’re too shy, Jeremy. I know you don’t really want me to move._

Well, he was right. Jeremy timidly wrapped his arms around Squip’s middle and tried not to think about it too hard, so nothing else would get hard-- shit, he wasn’t a teenager anymore, this was dumb. He turned his attention back to Imogen, lazily leaning back in her seat, legs crossed. She looked significantly more relaxed than she’d been before. Maybe it had been the crowds she’d objected to? But what was with the weird look she was giving him…

“It’s part of a set. Sophie was going to be here as a waitress.”

Jeremy stiffened a little. She must have noticed him looking at her, trying to understand the outfit.

“Oh. That’s… cool.” Sexy burger and, he assumed, sexy waitress? Interesting theme.

There was a hint of a playful smile to her mouth, now. "Sophie enjoys eating out. Hamburgers are her favorite."

Jeremy smiled, unsure, giving her a weak thumbs up, but he could hear Michael snort a laugh nearby. If that was a joke, he didn't get it.

“Let’s get to business. I want to enjoy the party after this.” Alex settled in, leaving the cane that was part of his costume on the floor.

Jeremy was having a difficult time paying attention.

“It’s been very quiet across the pond, I haven’t heard from Yasmine or John…”

“Linda’s experiments are going great, Jeremy here can vouch. Right, Jeremy?”

He only barely acknowledged it. Alex aggressively poked the side of his head.

“What? Oh. Oh. Yeah, right.” He had no idea what they were talking about, but Michael was glancing at him and he figured it might be something important. Jeremy tried harder to actually listen to what they were talking about, but then Squip shifted a little in his lap and suddenly he was very hot in his Obi-Wan robes. He gripped Squip's waist a little tighter.

“I haven’t noticed any activity, so They definitely haven’t caught on.”

“Wait, what are we talking about?” Jeremy noticed that Michael was looking increasingly alarmed.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Anytime someone says that something _absolutely_ goes wrong.”

“He doesn’t know about Them?” Imogen stilled a little, frowning. “I thought you told them?”

“Well, Jeremy knows.” Alex shrugged.

“Knows what?” Michael sat up straighter, shooting Jeremy a look. Fuck, shit, what was going on?

“Uh…” Everyone was staring at him now. “Um. Yes?”

“Dude!” Michael twisted the beard in his hands. “You- okay, this is information we should’ve- I _knew_ they were picking people off, what crazy evil organization _doesn’t_ , fuck!”

Oh.

 _That’s_ what they were talking about.

_Perhaps I need to change my outfit before we continue this conversation._

-Shut up.-

“I’m… Michael, I, um. I didn’t know how to… shit. Sorry. Alex said it’s nothing to worry about.”

“And you _believe_ him?”

Alex looked hurt. “Hey, I haven’t lied. I’m keeping you all safe. Honestly. _All_ of you.” He glanced at Imogen quickly when he said that last part. The corner of her mouth curved downward.

“How can you guarantee that?”

“There’s a _reason_ we’re having this conversation at a party surrounded by strangers. I have a method to my madness. We’re better concealed here and we— by that, I mean other squips— can exchange information. If any of us were in danger, we would know, but right now, everything’s cool. I promise.”

Michael didn’t look soothed, but he leaned back in his seat.

“So we just have to live in paranoia that we’re going to be found and murdered?”

“ _Or_ you could let _me_ worry about it. You live your life, I worry about your safety, and if something goes wrong I’ll nip it in the bud. This is what I do.” Alex leaned forward, hands on Michael’s knees, and it was weird, to see him look so serious and sincere. It was the second time tonight and it was throwing Jeremy off a little. He seemed to be earnest in trying to convince Michael.

“That isn’t a permanent solution.”

“I know that.” Alex sat back, smiling again, but it was softer than usual. “But it’s the best we’ve got. None of us really have a choice, here. Not even me.”

The room grew uncomfortably quiet.

“Surely there’s something else we can do?” Squip shifted again and draped an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders.

“I’m working on it.” Alex was all smiles again, the sudden mood change was enough to give someone whiplash. “The first step is getting you all acquainted with Imogen. She’s one of Linda’s first successful experiments after we dissented. She’s _also_ romantically involved with her host, so, y’know, you have a lot in common.”

“That’s… great.” More like awkward. Jeremy smiled weakly at Imogen.

“Aaand team break.” Alex hopped up out of his seat. “Let’s go enjoy the party. _I_ will worry about what could go wrong, and _you_ will all enjoy yourselves.” He made a point of looking everyone in the eye. Wow, he really _was_ serious. That was… certainly something.

Jeremy genuinely did try. No one tried to kill him, he and Michael were fine, and the house didn’t burn down. Squip was still dressed like _that_ and he kept finding himself staring, getting embarrassed, and looking away, but Squip seemed amused by the whole thing. (Of course he would be, he wore that costume on _purpose_ , knowing how he’d react.) Before the end of the night Alex even changed his costume for a third time. Michael had finally informed him that Alex’s second outfit had been someone from A Clockwork Orange, and now he was… Arnold Schwarzenegger. Not the Terminator. _Specifically_ Arnold Schwarzenegger.

He was too afraid to ask where he was getting these costumes from.

“What did you think of, well, all that?” It was really late by the time they got home and Jeremy was lamenting how little sleep he was going to get before work. The night hadn’t been so bad, but as he peeled off his costume, he still really wished he could’ve just stayed home and stuffed his face with candy like he’d originally planned.

“Something about Imogen bothered me.” Squip didn’t even care to get undressed. He lounged on his side, watching Jeremy take his clothes off.

“Why? I mean, she seemed a little… strung out, I guess, but if she’s not used to meeting more than just Alex…”

“That isn’t it.” Once Jeremy was in nothing but his underwear, Squip reached out a hand to pull him over to the bed. “She was purposefully shutting me out.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Squip trailed his fingers up slowly from Jeremy’s stomach to his chest.

“Our quantum processors allow all squips in an area to communicate with one another and share information. Alex’s channel is very open, he doesn’t usually hide anything, but he can, and has, closed himself off to shield himself. Such as that time he snuck into your hotel room.”

“Okay, so…” Jeremy just watched Squip’s hand lazily brush against his skin.

“Imogen refused to share much of anything. It’s possible she was being cautious and doesn’t trust us, but it felt like she was hiding something.”

“She kept looking at me funny.”

“I noticed that, too.” Squip finally sat up. “I’m sure Alex noticed as well, though he didn’t say. He seems to trust _her_ , even if she doesn’t trust us. I don’t have much reason to doubt his judgment.”

Jeremy licked his lips and moved into Squip’s lap. “He still doesn’t tell us everything, though.”

“No. He doesn’t.” Squip ran his fingers up Jeremy’s sides. “But he’s sincere in wanting to keep you safe.” He pressed a few kisses into Jeremy’s shoulder and finally, finally, he had an opportunity to touch him however he wanted. “He also has great taste in costumes.”

Jeremy’s hands paused against Squip’s chest.

“Wait. You picked this one, right?”

“No, he insisted I wear it. But I agreed with him that you’d like it.”

“Fuck,” Jeremy whined, dropping his head against Squip’s chest. “Now we have to burn it.” That’s it, everything was ruined. He couldn’t enjoy this costume anymore, not if Alex was involved, that was too _weird_.

“That’s very dramatic,” Squip smirked a little, playfully rolling his hips. “You sure I can’t change your mind?”

“No. Take it off.”

He would _not_ be teased about this. The fantasy was over. The bunny ears needed to go in the trash and stay there.

"Oh, getting assertive, I like it." Squip nuzzled playfully into Jeremy's neck as he reached for the ears.

"Sh-shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Alex/Michael bonus chapter!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237045/chapters/42609629)
> 
> [Bonus pt 2!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237045/chapters/42827741)


	16. Chapter 16

It was 3 in the morning and his phone was ringing.

Jeremy almost slept through it, confused and groggy, but it was loud and annoying enough that he flung out an arm and grabbed it off the nightstand.

It was Christine.

“Hello?” If she was calling this late, it had to be important…

“Happy birthday!” Christine was yelling and he could hear music in the background, almost drowning out her voice. He winced and held the phone away from his ear.

“Um. Oh… Oh, right. Thanks.” He tried to hide the sleep from his voice but probably did a terrible job. There was a pause on the other end.

“ _Oh_. Oh my God, Jeremy, I’m so sorry. I forgot you’re three hours ahead!” 

Jeremy laughed a little. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He closed his eyes. She must be at a party or something, based on all the noise going on.

“Okay. I’m gonna go now, sorry! Go back to sleep.”

“Thanks, Christine.”

She hung up and Jeremy groaned, dropping the phone somewhere on the bed. He’d had worse awakenings. It was kind of hilarious honestly, cute even, though he was too sleepy to laugh about it now. He rolled over into Squip, who dropped an arm around him.

“Excited, isn’t she?” Squip murmured in his ear. Jeremy sighed a little.

“Don’t talk. Sleeping.”

Squip nuzzled gently into his hair. "Whatever you say, birthday boy."

Jeremy would've smacked him if he hadn't been too tired to move.

As far as birthdays went, the day overall had been nice. It was a milestone, the big twenty-one, a true mark of adulthood, if only because he could drink alcohol now... Legally, anyway. Jeremy felt like they needed to celebrate, make a big deal of it like a normal college kid and throw a wild party, some kind of testament to the fact he'd actually survived long enough to make it to this point. In high school, twenty-one seemed like an impossible accomplishment, so far off into the future that it wasn't even worth thinking about. He'd been too busy trying to survive day-to-day, trying not to make an irreparable fool of himself, trying not to get shoved into a locker, wishing Christine would look at him and notice he existed...

It was surreal how much had changed in four years. He hadn't envisioned a future for himself at all, he wasn't just surviving. You could almost say he was _thriving_.

Wild.

Big parties weren't exactly something he enjoyed--who would he invite, a bunch of strangers?--so that was off the table, but they couldn't waste the night in the apartment. Michael took the decision out of his hands for him over breakfast. 

"So I know it's not exactly your scene, but there's this pub on campus, right? DJ Fuzzbear is playing tonight, _and_ they have arcade games. And since it's your birthday and everything, I'm willing to chauffer your wasted ass back home after." Michael grinned at him, raising his eyebrows in that goofy way that forced Jeremy to smile even in the worst of moods, and he couldn't say no. It was better than his original plan for the night, which was basically nothing. Since childhood he'd been terrible at figuring out what to do for his birthday; it was almost tradition to let Michael figure it out at this point. "I'll even let Silas in my car."

"How thoughtful. Thank you, Michael." Squip's voice dripped with sarcasm as he flipped another chocolate chip pancake onto Jeremy's plate. Michael leaned back in his chair, propping his Limited Edition Crash Bandicoot sock-clad feet up on the table. It earned him a disapproving stare from Squip, but they didn't say anything. It was a losing battle.

"Anything for my best bud, Jere."

Jeremy wiggled his toes under the table, his feet graced with a matching pair of limited edition socks but in blue, Michael's birthday gift to him, and smiled around the pancake he was eating. He didn't know how he managed to get here, but he wouldn't change any of it.

Christine sent him a cute birthday card, a dog eating a birthday cake, and he got a 'happy birthday' from his mom. It was only a text, short and to the point, but Jeremy had to sit down and stare at it for a while. He hadn't received so much as an email from his mom on his birthday since she'd left; it was weird seeing it now, shining up at him, a giant neon indicator that things in his life had changed. He sent her a quick 'thanks' in reply and went to lunch with his dad.

Over burgers, fries, and a beer Jeremy didn't actually want but his father insisted he try--

_"It was the first beer I ever had. Brings back memories. I still remember my twenty-first..."_

\--Jeremy got a distinct feeling that maybe he needed to visit his dad more. Or at least encourage him to get a hobby. Maybe get a gym membership. Join a Meetup group. Anything to stop the weird, precarious conspiracy theorists death spiral his dad seemed to be hurtling full throttle into. Jeremy bit a fry in half as his father tried to convince him that he'd been watching Youtube videos about Russian spies in Connecticut and felt a sinking sensation in his gut.

He tried to change the topic of conversation.

"So, uh. Dad. Didn't you say you and your coworkers were planning a fishing trip or... something?" He was hopeful for all of five minutes, but this somehow segued back into Russians in Connecticut and he gave up.

At least he was still wearing pants.

Once night fell, a dry, crisp blanket of late autumn air settled over them. Jeremy could still feel the cold seep in through his jacket and make his nose red and cold, but Squip made for a nice walking, talking furnace he could huddle up next to. Squip didn’t say anything about it, just draped an arm around his shoulders as they walked to the dimly-lit pub. Apparently DJ Fuzzbear was popular; Jeremy had never heard of them in his life (Michael apparently had been a fan of his since Myspace, some bizarre fact that had somehow slipped them after nearly two decades of friendship). It was crowded, not uncomfortably so, but close. 

They did, of course, have arcade games like Michael had promised. Which was pretty fucking cool. Jeremy fished around his pockets for stray quarters as they pushed their way toward the bar.

"Holy _shit_ , it's my man Jeremy!"

It took him a moment to register that it was the bartender shouting this at him, and before he could actually react, they'd grabbed him around the back of the neck, pulling him uncomfortably halfway over the bar, and twisted their fist in his hair.

"It's been _ages_ , man!"

"Jake?" Jeremy stumbled back a bit when he was finally let go, Squip pressing a hand against the small of his back to keep him from toppling over, and looked up at Jake's grinning face. He was the last person he'd expected to see here.

"How've you been?" Jake was shouting over the music and Jeremy shrugged his shoulders a little.

"You know. Just. School and all that."

"Wow. Lame." Jeremy frowned slightly in response. Was Jake going to school here, too? "Oh man, Michael, too. I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

“I’ve been, you know. Around.” Michael took a tentative seat on a barstool, fiddling with his phone, trying to get video of DJ Fuzzbear on the other side of the room.

“You guys a fan of the Fuzzman?” Jake, wiping a glass clean with a cloth, leaned over the bar, looking in the direction Michael was aiming his phone. 

"Actually, Jeremy's 21 today," Michael said, nudging Jeremy in the side with his elbow. Jake's eyes widened. “ _And_ I’m a fan.”

"No _shit_!" Jake cupped his hands around his mouth and began shouting into the surrounding area. "Hey everyone! We've got a 21st birthday going on over here!" The music was a little loud and only the people immediately next to them really seemed to hear. A couple people cheered, and a few others a little further off turned around to look at what the shouting was about. Jeremy shrank into himself, mortified. He had flashbacks to those awful moments in restaurants when a swarm of servers would hover around the table and loudly sing happy birthday. He never liked being the center of attention. Too much pressure.

"Um. Thanks."

"How's a birthday cake shot sound? On the house."

"Oh, sure-"

"Gonna need to see some I.D. though, just to be sure. Not that I think you're untrustworthy, but I have a job to keep."

"R-right." Jeremy pressed his lips together into what he hoped was a smile and fished around his pocket for his driver's license. He handed it over to Jake, who glanced at it for all of 2 seconds before sliding it back over with a wink. Then he looked over at Michael. "What about you, Headphones Guy?"

"Just a Coke for me. I'm, you know, the designated driver."

"That's right, you're the responsible one. I like it." Jake grabbed a couple glasses out from under the bar, then paused when he finally seemed to notice Squip hovering by Jeremy's shoulder. "That guy with you, too?"

"Yes. I am." Squip didn't seem to know whether to be amused or insulted. He had a strange mix of both on his face.

“You look legal. What’re you drinking?”

“Nothing for me.” Squip drummed his fingers on the sticky bartop. 

Jake made a face. “You’re making the birthday boy drink alone? _Wow._ You need better friends, Jeremy. Hey, I’m having a holiday party in a couple weeks. There’s gonna be _jello shots_.” Jeremy smiled sheepishly, got in a little ‘yeah sure maybe’, and Jake interrupted him again. “But for now, I’ll just have a shot with you.”

“You can do that?”

“Perks of the job. I get to drink.” Jake whipped out two shot glasses. “I’ve only gotten drunk once on the clock.”

Jeremy was starting to feel that Jake wasn’t actually very good at his job.

He’d never actually had a birthday cake shot. Jake handed him a wedge of lemon dipped in sugar and a shot glass. It actually _did_ taste like chocolate cake. Weird.

Jake left them alone to actually tend to the other people at the bar, and the next time he came around, Jeremy ordered something red and fruity. He nursed it between his hands, watching the condensation drip down the side of the glass.

"Hey, so, Jake. Have you, uh, heard from Rich recently at all?" It’d been an innocent enough question. Jake and Rich sort of went hand-in-hand in his mind, and Jeremy hadn’t seen Rich for a while, but the change in Jake's demeanor was immediate. His smile fell significantly, and he looked at Jeremy, resigned. 

"So you haven't seen him at all, either."

"No." Jeremy frowned, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. "I kind of lost touch with him after graduation and I was just curious..."

"Yeah." Jake leaned a little against the bar, arms crossed. "He kind of, I don't know, disappeared? It was weird. At first I thought he was just avoiding me for some reason, but then he stopped showing up to stuff and wouldn't respond to anyone else, either." He was frowning now. "I even tried to ask his dad about it, but he's a piece of shit and didn't care anyway."

Jeremy and Michael glanced at each other, Michael leaning over his glass and slowly sipping his soda.

"You haven't heard anything at all?"

"Pretty much. I wish he'd just text or something, y'know? Shit's lonely, especially since my parents are fugitives in Mexico and everything."

"What-"

"Anyway." Jake smiled again, straightening, reaching for a bottle of vodka. " _You_ need more to drink. We're _celebrating_ tonight. We can catch up about the bullshit later."

Jake made him another drink, before he even finished his other one, messily getting orange juice everywhere as he did. He slid the drink over to him, clinking against the glass he already had and nearly toppling it over, then walked off to the other end of the bar. Jeremy immediately pulled out his phone to text Christine.

"Hey, have you heard from Rich at all?"

"No. Why?"

"Just wanted to talk to him about something and I don't have his number."

"I have Jake's number. You can try him."

"Already did, he said he hasn't heard from Rich in ages."

"No way! That's super bizarre wtf. What about Jenna? She keeps tabs on EVERYONE."

"I might give her a shot."

It probably, definitely, had to, mean nothing, but this was bothering him. He scrolled through the hundreds of Jenna Roland’s on Facebook (he could have sworn he’d friended her, but maybe not…), growing more anxious and frustrated by the second, until Squip gently rested a hand over the screen.

_This won't help you feel better. You need to let it go. We can try to find him later._

Jeremy frowned. This was bad. Knowing what he knew now, Rich disappearing like that couldn't be anything good. Alex and his mom hadn't mentioned anything about Rich, and that either meant they were hiding something or didn't know anything, either. What did it mean? It was entirely possible he'd just skipped town dramatically and tried to restart his life, or got into something bad and ended up dead in a ditch somewhere (wow, morbid much?) but he couldn't shake the sinking feeling that his disappearance was squip related. It had to be.

But Squip was right. He couldn't spend his birthday getting worked up over what was probably nothing.

He ducked down closer to the bar, now with two drinks to work on before the ice melted and made them watery and gross, trying not to worry. Tonight wasn’t allowed to be ruined by the possibility of doom and gloom. Jeremy needed to focus on how great things were going, enjoy his birthday, and eat the leftover slice of cake from lunch waiting for him in the fridge at home.

Jeremy, for the most part, succeeded. 

When the crowds thinned a little they vacated their spots at the bar and strategically made their way toward a far wall, lined with old, beat up arcade games. Jeremy lost at Pac-Man five times in a row, a little too liquored up to be completely steady or quick with the controls, Michael tossing quarters at him like some kind of piggy bank projectile. After the six time Squip came up behind him, setting a bottle of some kind of beer down on the nearby ledge (Jeremy didn’t know when Squip had actually started drinking) and slide his hands slowly down his arms, resting over his hands, pressed up against his back.

“Let me help you with that,” he purred in his ear, and Jeremy couldn’t stop the big, stupid grin spreading across his face.

“Okay.”

It worked for all of five minutes. Squip seemed to get bored of trying to help Jeremy win such a basic game, and instead his hands started to roam, moving back up his arms and over his chest, nuzzling his nose under his chin and pressing light, teasing kisses to his neck. Already a little unsteady on his feet, and now blushing, Jeremy lost at Pac-Man again, bt he couldn’t even be mad about. 

“You— you’re _distracting_ me…”

Squip chuckled, kissing his ear in response, and Jeremy bit his lip. Standing right next to them, Michael made an impatient noise.

“Really, guys? C’mon, not in front of the machines, they’re sensitive.” 

Jeremy glanced at Michael with an apologetic smile and slight shrug of his shoulders. Squip wrapped his arms loosely around Jeremy’s wasit and tugged him against him, chin resting on his shoulder, watching Michael with an unimpressed pout.

"Michael." He sounded bored, almost apathetic. “You have no room to judge.”

"Wha-"

"You slept with Alex."

Jeremy, in the middle of taking a sip of whatever Squip had been drinking, practically choked on it, forcing alcohol up his nose, burning and stinging, eyes watering as he sputtered.

"You--" he had to stop to cough a few times, sucking down air, "you did _what_ with _who_?" Jeremy stared at Michael's face, hoping this was some kind of bizarre joke or Squip was just... he didn't know, but the look on Michael's face betrayed the truth.

"How did you know?" Michael looked alarmed.

Squip rolled his eyes, grip tightening around Jeremy’s waist. "I'm highly aware of everything that goes on in the apartment, Michael."

" _Woah._ Woah, woah, woah, hold on, what, Alex? _Alex_? When? Oh my God." Jeremy’s brain, slow and sluggish from all the alcohol he’d been drinking, was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. 

Woah.

_Woah._

Michael took off his glasses and pressed a hand to his face, looking thoroughly mortified, but increasingly aggravated as Jeremy continued his onslaught of questions and confused sputtering. 

"Dude. Okay. _Dude_." Jeremy had to stop himself for a second. His mind felt completely blown. "When were you going to tell me?"

"You know what, Jeremy, _you_ don't tell me everything, why should I? Maybe I wanted some privacy?" The rise in Michael's voice startled him, and Jeremy felt his insides twist. Was he mad? He sounded mad. Michael turned away from the both of them, frowning, drinking his soda with shoulders hunched and head down.

Jeremy pressed his lips into a tight frown. "Hey, I'm-- I'm not judging you or anything, okay? I- I'm just. I'm really confused now." Michael turned his head back toward him but didn’t say anything. He could see Michael fidgeting with the straw in his glass, jabbing at the ice. “I thought you, uh. Like…” Why did Squip suddenly have to drop something like this _now_? Squip wasn’t even helping to smooth over the conversation. Jeremy was pretty sure he was asleep, face pressed into his neck. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

Michael deflated, setting down his glass. “It just… kinda happened, I guess. I don’t know.”

“So you do like him.” Jeremy blinked blearily at Michael as he shrugged.

“I mean. Yeah?”

“Are you, like… dating now?”

Michael was still fidgeting with the straw, bending it until it snapped. “I guess.”

“Great. One _last_ question.” Maybe he should be waiting to have this conversation when he was sober? Oh well. Too late now. Jeremy awkwardly shuffled closer, Squip still clinging to him from behind, until he was close enough to put his hands on Michael’s shoulders. “Are you happy about it?”

He glanced down, hands still on the straw, worrying his lip for a moment. Michael smiled a little, finally, so that was a good sign. Jeremy felt a little better already. 

“Pretty sure I am.”

“Right. Great.” Jeremy patted Squip’s arm until lifted his head a little, blinking a few times. “Sooo, then, there’s no problem here.” He smiled, he hoped it was encouraging, and Michael hesitated as if he wanted to say something else. Instead, he tossed the twisted plastic straw in the trash.

“Alright. Move, let me show you lushes how to _win_.” Jeremy stumbled out of the way and let Michael take over the Pac-Man game. “I didn’t get that Pac-Man tattoo for shits and giggles.”

“If you get a high score you gotta put my initials in there, cause it’s my birthday.”

“Not a chance.”

“What? Come _on_!” 

Birthday privileges, apparently, did not extend that far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up with Rich?? We just don't know!!!
> 
> [Bonus chapter!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967986/chapters/42780215)


	17. Chapter 17

“We’ll change the world someday. Imagine it, _̷͙̠̞̆ͪ̊̽͢͠_̷̨̡̥̘͚̟͉̜̬͆ͭ̽ͣ̓͗̄̍͐̅ͤ̿̊̆_̓ͣ̈́̊̄̂̌̾ͭ̄ͥ̈́͌ͧ̎͋̓ͥ̚҉̸̷̧̤̺̤̜̬̗̜͖͓̦͖͈͉͈̤͕̼̬͞_̸̢ͦ͐͑̍ͬ̇͂̂ͬͨ͞҉̺͉̹̱̕_̷̴̴̬̘̘̦̟͖͖͎̜̖̔ͪ̋͑ͤͦ͆ͯ͑̊̈͗̓ͪ̐̊̋̔_̣̝̩͓͙̺͖̹̣̭̅͛͆̉̇̚̚̚͝ͅ. Everything will be wonderful.”

He stood at the edge of the ocean, water caressing his feet, breeze warm on his skin.

He wasn't alone here.

Storm clouds hovered in the distance, growing darker, looming ominously closer, drowning out the sun and casting everything a faded shade of gray. 

"I want to go home." It was a sad, desperate plea. Pitiful and ignored. "I want to be enough."

" _Useless._ "

He turned to look beside him, expecting to see two, maybe three others with him, but there was only one. They stood there alone, head turned toward the sky as it darkened around them, water licking up to their knees. He couldn't see their face, obscured with angry, buzzing interference. When they spoke, their voice came out slow and slurred, disjointed and ugly, three voices forced together, each struggling to be heard.

"_̷̵̢̘̰̺͔̯̱̜͔̤͖̼̻͙̼͕̖̥̺̈̑̊̒͒̒̌͐͆̒͒̚͞ͅ_̷̸̖̘͔̪̤͎̍ͧ̐͂̀̇̇͆ͤ̚̕͝_ͮͪ̍̒̎ͤ̋̈̓̍̽̏̔̿ͭ̚̚͜҉̶̝̪͎͇̮̹̳̟̰̯̯̪ͅ , don't, this isn't you. **Useless.** Why did you make me do this?"

The sound sent a chill down his spine. 

He wanted to help them. He felt his heart beating; was it fear? The more he looked, the more horrific the figure in front of him seemed to become. His whole stomach twisted, sick and sinking, full of apprehension.

"I'm sorry." A cold comfort. The wind picked up, salty spray hitting his face, hard enough to sting, water surging up to their thighs. They turned to him then, as if only now aware of his presence. There was only one person there, but for a moment, he thought he saw were two. A man with a gaping hole in his chest. A man with no head. It startled him enough that he almost fell back into the water. 

“Help me.”

How could he help them when they were so far away?

But in a blink, an instant, they were in front of him, reaching for him, noises from its faceless, alien form filling his ears. Shattering glass. The call of gulls. A broken sob. Laughter. A gunshot. The crash of waves. A cacophonous dichotomy of sound that made him stumble back, away from their grasp, hands over his ears. It didn’t help.

"Who am I." They kept reaching for him, undeterred by his attempts to get away. "What is the answer?"

He took another step back, but the water was up to his hips now and his movements were slow and sluggish. The water surged forward, he felt the sand sliding over and across his toes, and then it retracted, pulling him under. Everything was inky and dark. He opened his mouth.

He couldn't breathe. There was nothing but water in his lungs.

"You have it." He could still hear them, in front of him, and this time when they grabbed for him they succeeded, gripping his shirt, pulling him into the abyss where their face should be. He struggled, but he couldn't get away from their iron grasp and his chest was burning. He needed to breathe. He needed air. He needed--

"Give it to me give it to me." They clawed at his throat, at his mouth, and he was helpless to stop them. He felt their hand on his face, prying open his jaw, fingers digging and ripping into his mouth, down his throat, sharp, he could taste blood, he was choking.

give
it 
to 
me 


Jeremy's eyes snapped open, gagging, gulping in air, sweating bullets. 

"Jesus f-fuck."

What the fuck kind of nightmare was _that_? Jeremy held a hand to his throat, letting the terror fade away now that he knew he was awake and not actually choking to death. It was still dark in the room; the alarm clock blinked 4:38 AM at him, but he heard quiet footsteps in the hall that caused him to freeze.

"Jeremy," Squip spoke quietly in the dark, tinged with concern. "What's wrong?" 

He blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the room. "It- Nothing. Just a nightmare, I guess." It was, thankfully, already starting to fade from his mind. He barely remembered what had happened, besides the final drowning bit. 

"Oh. Is that it?" The concern in Squip's voice dropped immediately. Jeremy pouted in response.

"Wow. That's really comforting." Not that he necessarily _needed_ comforting, he wasn't five, he could deal with nightmares, but a lingering sense of dread curled in his stomach, fluttering around like butterflies. "You're lucky you don't dream."

Squip pulled away from the doorframe to step fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. "I do dream, actually."

"You do?" He watched Squip slip into bed beside him and Jeremy curled up next to him, once again grateful for the warmth that radiated off of him. It really was convenient now that the early winter chill had found its purchase outside. Squip wrapped an arm around his shoulders, soothingly running his fingers up and down his arm.

"Yes. Not exactly like you. It's mostly memory processing. Nothing exactly interesting." 

"I think I'd prefer that..." He sank against Squip's side, eyes closed, willing himself back to sleep, though sleep seemed more interested in eluding him now. Jeremy didn't feel wired, exactly, but he couldn't get his brain to relax, stuck on a phrase, churning over and over in his head. _What is the answer, give it to me, give it to me._

Give _what_? 

He normally found the snuggled position against Squip's side comfortable, but now it felt itchy and suffocating. Jeremy pulled away, rolling onto his other side to sleep on the cold side of the mattress, but that was uncomfortable, too. The more he tried to readjust himself, the more frustrated he got, until he heard Squip sigh and sit up.

"Let's try something else, shall we?"

"Like what?" Jeremy winced at the sudden brightness of the table lamp flooding the room.

"Studying should do the trick." 

Jeremy groaned. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm definitely not."

Jeremy dragged himself out of bed and joined Squip on the bean bag chair in the corner, sitting in his lap, Squip's chin resting on his shoulder. Studying was the last thing he wanted to do, he didn't even have classes today, but one look at his textbook already made him feel sleepier than he had a minute ago, so maybe it was a good idea after all. It seemed like a good idea, anyway, until Squip tried to quiz him on the passage he'd just read, when really it was his eyes glazing over the page, uncomprehending. 

"I thought this was just to help me sleep, not _actual_ studying," Jeremy whined into Squip's shoulder. Squip lightly brushed his fingers through his hair, an amused curve to his mouth.

"We can try something else if your heart isn't in it."

He gratefully dumped the textbook to the floor and kicked it underneath his desk. "What's your suggestion this time?"

"Sex." Squip said it, casual and matter-of-fact, but Jeremy's ears burned a little.

"That's-- oh. Thank works, yeah, you're right."

Why hadn't he suggested it in the first place? It _definitely_ beat studying at five in the morning. Squip smiled, lips pressed to his shoulder, gently rubbing his sides with his hands.

"I'm always right."

Jeremy snorted. "No you're _not_ -" but he was cut off sharply by a bite to his shoulder.

"You were saying?"

"You're an ass," Jeremy frowned, back pressing into Squip's chest as he worked his hands up his sides and across his stomach. Squip softly kissed the irritated skin where he'd bitten, annoyance quickly forgotten by the time Squip's thumb teased his nipple. Jeremy couldn't do much from where he was sitting, so he rested his hands on Squip's knees, tilting his head back to allow Squip better access to his throat. 

That awful dream was nothing but a wisp of memory, now, drifting away into nothing.

Squip hooked his thumbs into the band of Jeremy's underwear and pulled them down, Jeremy tugging them off the rest of the way, naked and feeling oddly exposed, despite the fact they were the only ones in the room. Squip teased his earlobe with his teeth, hands on his inner thighs, skirting up to his arousal and then moving away, leaving Jeremy breathless and frustrated for a whole new reason. He rolled his hips impatiently when Squip ghosted his fingers across his erection, the lightest of touches, barely there at all. 

"What do you want, Jeremy?" Squip murmured in his ear, a smile in his voice as he barely grazed over him again, Jeremy's breath hitching. 

He swallowed, tilting his head back against Squip's shoulder, to look at him. "I- I want you to touch me."

"Mmm, no." Squip chuckled softly, dropping his fingers against Jeremy's inner thighs again. He groaned in frustration, lightly gripping Squip's knees.

"What, why not?" 

Jeremy bit his lip when Squip led his touch from his thighs to his stomach and chest. "Touch yourself, Jeremy." Squip's voice dropped to a low purr. "I want to watch."

"Oh." He licked his lips a little, letting go of Squip's knee to lightly stroke himself. "I... Okay." Squip grabbed him by the hips and pulled him in closer, dropping kisses to his throat and shoulder as Jeremy moved his fingers quickly along himself. He brushed his thumb over the head, the way he liked that always made him instinctively buck his hips; Squip made an appreciative noise in his throat, eyes half-lidded as he watched, biting down on that sensitive spot at the base of his neck. "Ah, Squip..."

They caressed a hand up his chest, trailing slowly back down his stomach. "You look so good for me, Jeremy." Squip hummed it in his ear, breath hot against his skin, between seductive kisses. Jeremy moaned, movement a little rougher, feeling a shiver through him at the praise. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Squip's mouth against his skin and the aching pleasure coiling inside his belly. He felt Squip hands move along his inner thighs again, so close he could feel the heat of them against his erection. "Come for me." 

He did with a gasp, still stroking himself through it, stuttering Squip's name. Squip peppered a few more kisses along his throat before catching his mouth, kiss soft and slow as Jeremy calmed his breathing. After a moment Squip began to move, slipping out carefully from behind Jeremy so he could flop back against the bean bag chair, smiling lazily up at him as Squip knelt down in front of him instead. He pushed himself up a little, propped up on his elbows, hands resting on Squip's hips. 

"Do you want me to..."

"No." Squip smiled, though it was really more of a smirk, grabbing Jeremy's hands and pinning them over his head. "Just watch." He kissed Jeremy's jaw, letting go of him as he kissed lower, so slow it was almost agonizing. He took the time to lick the cum from his chest and stomach, causing Jeremy to blush and look away, embarrassed. Everything Squip did was always stupidly hot, it bordered on ridiculous. Jeremy couldn't even imagine himself looking nearly as hot doing that...But Squip suddenly jostled him from his thoughts, slipping underneath his thighs and lifting his legs over his shoulders. He shuddered a sigh when he felt Squip part his cheeks, tongue hot and wet at his entrance. 

Jeremy dug his fingers into the fabric of the bean bag chair, head tilted back, biting his lip to stifle the moan. It was a little hard to see from his current position, but it almost looked as Squip had a hand down the front of his boxers, stroking himself as Squip's mouth explored him. 

It really wasn't fair, _he_ wanted to see this time.

But he could feel himself getting aroused again at the thought of it, snaking a hand down to stroke himself again as Squip's tongue explored him. Squip paused only long enough to groan his name, he could hear Squip's breath quicken, and when the orgasm hit him again it left him dizzy, Squip moaning along with him while he pressed kisses to his thighs. 

At some point, they relocated to the bed, though Jeremy couldn't be certain when it happened. He felt pleasantly relaxed now, buried in a sea of endorphins and Squip's arms, a goofy smile on his face he couldn't seem to wipe away. 

"I love you," Jeremy mumbled it against Squip's skin, more asleep than awake now, but he felt Squip's lips on his forehead before he completely drifted off.

"Sweet dreams, Jeremy."


	18. Chapter 18

"So I know you usually spend Christmas with Michael and his family, but I'm requesting custody over you and Silas this year." Jeremy could hear Christine's grin over the phone.

"I don't know, that's like, fifteen years of tradition you're trying to uproot here. You might need to fight Michael to the death."

Christine blew a raspberry into the receiver. "I can take him. Do you know how beefy I've gotten since joining those hardcore performance art exercise sessions? Michael's a _marshmallow_ compared to me."

Jeremy laughed, carefully balancing the phone on his shoulder, pressing it to his ear while he juggled a heavy stack of textbooks in his arms. "Yeah, you know, I'll be sure to relay that to him, unless you're planning on declaring the challenge yourself."

"Do carrier pigeons still exist?"

"Uuuh--" He snorted a laugh, then scrambled to keep the topmost book from falling from the stack. "Don't know. What does that-"

"Well _anyway,_ I'll be there in a few days. I've missed you! How is everything going? Are things still okay with Linda? You know, I don't actually miss the snow as much as I thought I would? Is it snowing yet?"

"Yeah, it's-- It's been snowing on and off, typical stuff. And..." Jeremy trailed off, setting the pile of books down on a ledge. "Linda, my mom, uh. She and Alex are here for a couple of days for Hanukkah stuff." Which in and of itself was bizarre; he hadn't expected it or thought about it much, but she'd asked and, well, how could he say no? Jeremy was supposed to visit his dad tomorrow; they didn't do much during Hanukkah, not since his mom left. The menorah was buried somewhere in his dad's attic, forgotten and dusty. Usually, his dad would pick up a box of jelly donuts and a rotisserie chicken at some point during the week, and they'd sit in front of the TV, watching _Eight Crazy Nights_ or _Full-Court Miracle_. His dad would gift him a wad of cash and Jeremy would get him a new tie, or a themed mug.

Then, whenever Christmas happened to roll around, he'd spend the day with Michael and his family, which was always a significantly more pleasant experience. It helped that half of it was spent getting baked in Michael's basement.

Now his mom was here, in his apartment once again, and it felt weird. She was going to make brisket with that Coca-Cola glaze she said was her Grandma's recipe, he loved it as a kid because it was nice and sweet. It almost felt wrong to do this, and then visit his dad the next day, pretending none of it had happened, that his mom was still somewhere in New York with her high school boyfriend, still a divorce lawyer who never bothered to talk to either of them, not even on birthdays.

"Oh! Oh my God, am I interrupting? Here I am, talking your ear off about the weather when you have family over, I can call back and talk about Christmas later."

"No, it's, uh, it's fine. I'm not home yet. I just finished exams." And now he had to return this stack of textbooks to the school store to hopefully get some extra spending money out of it.

"Man, I'm so _done_ with exams. I have one more this afternoon and then I'm outta here..."

Jeremy let Christine talk as he navigated the campus hallways, skirting around other students desperately scurrying to their next exam, faces glued to notes for last-second cramming, not paying any attention to where they were going. He got rid of the stack of books, arms still aching from the weight of them, but the extra $50 lining his pocket was worth the hassle.

"And that's why I _really_ don't like Mamma Mia. Which is such a shame y'know?"

"I don't think I ever watched that one..." Jeremy moved the phone away from his ear temporarily to readjust his scarf. 

"Oh, shoot, Jeremy, I need to go. I'm going to be late for my exam. I'll see you in a few days, okay?" 

"Good luck, Christine."

"Bye!!"

Jeremy tried not to think about the fact that in a few days, he and Michael would have to sit Christine down and inform her there was a slim possibility of death-by-squip-zombie. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation; every time he went over it in his head it turned out unpleasant. She was going to be upset, and he couldn't blame her.

He wondered if he'd still be invited to Christmas dinner afterward. 

As he briskly walked through the parking lot to his car, Jeremy tried to drown the niggling thoughts with the promise of deep-fried goodness on the horizon and the freedom of a month-long break until next semester. Focusing on the positive things was always more pleasant... He dug his car keys out of his pocket, flipping the key out of the fob, but something gave him pause before he could open the door.

He heard a clicking noise.

Jeremy squinted a little at his reflection in the window. It was definitely the same noise he’d heard at the Halloween party. He’d completely forgotten about it and never actually mentioned it to anyone, because it was entirely possible he was just hearing things, but not this time. There was a definite noise, right behind him, and Jeremy quickly turned around and backed up, ducking a little as if he was trying to escape a bee.

There was a girl there. She was staring directly at him.

“Um… Hi?”

She looked too young to be in college, not that Jeremy was the best at guessing ages. She couldn’t be any older than fifteen, though, and she was staring at him so blankly that he wondered if she was on drugs or something. Then he glanced down and realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes. The fuck. The ground was cold and icy, this was _not_ barefoot weather. 

“Are… are you in trouble? Do you need help?” Jeremy frowned as the girl approached him, not responding to his question. She stopped right in front of him, staring directly into his face. The clicking noise got louder, faster, and he looked away, uncomfortable. 

“Jeremy Heere.” There was a distinct lack of emotion in her voice. He looked back up when she spoke, confused and alarmed. How did she know his name? The clicking noise abruptly stopped, right as he felt a sharp, familiar twinge behind his left eye. Jeremy staggered as he winced, eye-watering, back pressing into the cold metal of his car. “You’ve been identified. Goodbye.”

What.

“H-hey, wait, what does that mean?” She’d turned and walked away; Jeremy jogged a little to keep up, but she continued to ignore him. He was halfway across the parking lot before he finally decided to give up. That was… He was unnerved, to say the least. His heart was beating fast in his chest.

-Squip?-

His thoughts were racing. What _was_ that? Who was she? She’d done something, and…

_Yes?_

Jeremy licked his lips and quickly walked to his car.

-Alex and my mom are there, right?-

_Yes, they’ve been here all day. Are you on your way back?_

He wouldn’t worry Squip right away. Jeremy could wait and bring up what just happened once he was actually home, in the security of his cheap apartment. He'd ask Alex about it first, maybe, he'd know if it was anything to worry about...

-Yeah. Don’t let Michael get into the cookie dough.-

_Linda already physically removed him from the kitchen._

-Cool.-

Jeremy clenched the steering wheel way harder than was necessary and by the time he got home, his hands were cramping. His dad had called on the way and he deliberately ignored it, any guilt quickly snuffed out by the anxiety bubbling up and boiling his insides. He jogged up the stairs, jumping steps at a time, almost tripping a few times, and quickly rushed in the door. 

"Jeremy!" He was greeted immediately by Michael, hands raised in the air, a Playstation controller in one hand and plate of dreidel-shaped sugar cookies in his lap. "How'd your exams go? You look freaked. Was it bad?"

"Oh, you know..." Jeremy quickly kicked off his shoes. "It was... whatever. Hey, where's Alex?"

Michael paused, the concerned cast over his features vanishing as he took a bite out of a cookie and looked over his shoulder. "Dunno, he was just here."

"Jeremy, Sweetheart, come into the kitchen, please." 

Oh. Right. His mom... Anxiety still gnawing at his stomach, he moved through the hallway into the incredibly crowded kitchen. It was only Linda and Squip, but it seemed smaller than usual, every inch of counter space taken up with food. Alex wasn't in here either. Shit. Fuck. He really needed to talk to him.

_Jeremy, you've been nervous since you left the campus. What's wrong?_

Squip wasn't looking at him, he was facing the sink, washing dishes.

-I, um. Just. I'll explain later.-

_Is it because your mother is here?_

-No! No. Jesus.-

He was mostly over that already.

"I have something for you." Linda smiled at him as she rolled out a sheet of cookie dough on the counter. "It's in the bag over there."

Jeremy chewed his lip as he grabbed the gift bag off the counter, pushing past the crinkly tissue paper. He squinted down at the object at the bottom of the bag. "What is..."

"It's a Walkman."

"Oh. Oh! Wow. It looks new."

"It's an original, from 1979. I fixed it up a little for you. I... don't know if that's something you still like, but if it doesn't work, I can get you something else..."

"No. This is fine. Thanks, mom." He smiled, hoping it was fully convincing. It was a nice gift, honestly, but the creepy girl in his school parking lot was still on his mind, making it hard to think about anything else. “Hey, do you know where Alex is? I need to talk to him.”

“He went to the store across the street. We’re out of powdered sugar.”

Fuck.

“I’ll, um, thanks, just— If you need me I’ll… be over here.” Jeremy scurried off to his room, gift bag clenched in his fists, and for a moment he just stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot in the middle of the room. He could text Alex, maybe, but if he was only across the street he should be back soon, right? He abandoned the gift on his desk and took a breath to calm his frazzled nerves. 

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Maybe it had just been some weird prank?

"Yo, Jeremy! Chag Chanukah sameach and all that." Alex appeared at his side, practically out of thin air, looping an arm over his shoulders. Jeremy sighed in relief.

"Alex, I've been--"

"Hey, I need you to do me a huge favor." He dropped his voice a little, glancing toward the kitchen. "They kicked me out of the kitchen because I was stealing cookie dough for Michael. I need you to go in there and get more, and then give it to me, so I can give it to Michael and stay in his good graces. You got me? Awesome, you're a pal."

"Okay, but, I need to--"

"Time's wasting. Look at him, he's all sad with those other cookies, I can't let him live like that, it's cruel."

" _Alex._ " Jeremy spoke a little louder than he'd intended. Alex stopped talking, finally giving him his full attention.

"What's up? Something bothering you?" Alex dropped his arm and Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the bangs that kept stubbornly falling into his face.

"Y-yeah, um." How to even explain this? "There was this... I mean, earlier, at school. This girl? She just came up to me and it was super creepy, she didn't have shoes or anything, and there was this clicking noise and," Jeremy watched Alex's smile slowly dissipate throughout his explanation, which didn't do anything to calm his nerves, "then she said I was identified or whatever? I..."

Alex grabbed his shoulders, grip tight. Jeremy winced a little. "Jeremy. Listen to me very carefully. Get your shoes. Put your jacket on. Wait by the door."

Alarm bells immediately went off in his head. "Wait, what's happening?"

"Linda!" Alex let him go, moving toward the kitchen with long strides. "Jeremy met Click Clack."

There was a clatter from the kitchen, Linda dropping the rolling pin, voice alarmed. "What?"

-Squip?-

Jeremy still hadn’t moved from where he was standing. His insides, fluttering with anxious energy a moment ago, had solidified to a solid lead, weighing him down, making it impossible to move. He watched Linda and Squip appear in the entrance of the kitchen; Linda swept past them both, frantically wiping her hands on her apron. Squip, frowning, glanced quizzically at Alex, making eye contact only for a moment, frown deepening when Alex turned away. 

_Get your jacket._

Jeremy moved mechanically, reaching for where he’d left it, slipping it over his arms and shoulders.

“Why is everyone suddenly so serious and stuff?” Michael, now keenly aware of the nervous energy in the room, had paused the game he was playing, leg bouncing. 

"Michael. Babe. Don't freak out, but I need your keys. We gotta leave."

He knit his brows together, fidgeting with the controller in his hand, thumb circling the left analog stick. "You can’t just— What’s click-clack?"

"Explanations in the car."

"But— " Alex forcibly lifted Michael from the couch, cookies spilling on the floor. "Alex, what the hell, dude!"

"We can't stay here." He shoved a jacket in Michael's hands as he continued to protest, though it was more apprehensive babbling than actual objection. "Listen. The big bad robot found Jeremy. Give me your keys, I’m driving."

Jeremy moved to the front door, rooted to the spot. Michael glanced at him, a sickly shade of panic coloring his face, fumbling with the car keys.

What was happening? This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be fine, nothing to worry about, safe. Christine was coming and-

_Jeremy. Your shoes._

-Oh.- 

Jeremy bent down to put them on, blood rushing in his ears. They were in danger. That's what this was. Linda was running around the apartment in a frenzy, collecting things, Alex gently but urgently rushing Michael along, and Jeremy's hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even tie his shoes. Was this his fault? He should have said something right away, he should have said something at the Halloween party, he should have-

_Calm down. This is only a precaution. Breathe._

Squip knelt down in front of him, tying his shoes for him. Jeremy swallowed thickly and slowly stood back up.

-Are you sure?-

Jeremy watched Linda throw her bag over her shoulder, pale and sweating. He couldn't quite tell, but Alex seemed angry. _Serious._ Precaution his ass. They were fucked. Totally, completely fucked.

_Yes._

The front door swung open, nearly hitting him, causing Jeremy to yelp and fall back, Squip’s hand clamped on his shoulder.

"Now I know this is going to sound crazy, Jeremy, but I need you to hear me out. It's about your mother, it's-"

Everyone froze, time screeching to a halt, the chaotic, uneasy atmosphere from just seconds ago replaced with a cold quietness. His dad stood there in the doorway, red-faced, breathless, disheveled, like he'd run up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, a stack of photographs in his hand. The same photographs Jeremy had given him a few months ago. 

His dad and Linda were staring at each other.

"Linda?" 

Jeremy watched the color drain completely from his father's face. 

"...Ray."

"Dad, this, th-this isn't what you think, it's, um..."

Alex cleared his throat, aggressively loud. He was arm-in-arm with both Linda and Michael. "Hey, Ray, I know your brain just exploded, but we _really_ have to leave right now, so we'll explain why your life is a lie later. Please get out of the way."

“What.” His dad was blinking repeatedly. 

“D-dad? Uh—”

“Ray, please.”

It was all very fast after that. 

Jeremy was staring at Linda, a full view of the tension in her face, how white her knuckles were as she squeezed the fingers of her other hand. She was there, and then she wasn’t.

Somewhere, distantly, he heard a window shatter, but it felt like everything he was seeing was a few seconds delay. Alex, shoving Linda to the ground. Alex, meeting his eyes. Alex, on the floor, view obscured when Squip’s grip on his shoulders tightened and pulled him away, toward the open door. Linda’s hands, covered in green, and Michael stumbling back against the couch, eyes wide, gripping his hair.

_Jeremy._

Tumbling, tumbling, down the stairs, into the parking lot, only the sound of his breathing loud in his ears.

It hit him all at once as Squip shoved him into the passenger seat of Michael’s car, buckling him in.

“Oh my God, what the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck_.” Michael threw himself into the driver’s seat, hands shaky and trembling as he turned the ignition. There were specks of green all over his face, his neck, his glasses.

“Squip? Squip, what’s happening? Squip?” Words were tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could think. His heart was going to explode. 

“Michael. Go.” Squip slammed the door shut and stepped away; Jeremy could only stare. Michael peeled out of the parking spot so fast the car nearly toppled.

“Squip?”

Alex. Alex on the floor, green tinged with red, pooling on the carpet, Linda shrieking—

Squip disappeared from his view completely and Jeremy nearly lost it.

-Squip!-

Jeremy fumbled with the seatbelt, unbuckling, frantically trying to unlock the door.

_I’ll find you._

“Jer— Jeremy, oh my God stop, _stop_! The car is _moving_.” Michael shouted at him, grabbing his arm, jostling him away from the door handle.

“I… We can’t just leave him there!” But Jeremy didn’t reach for the car handle again. He swiveled in his seat, leaning halfway over to look behind them, anxious, terrified. 

“Put your seatbelt back on!”

Both of his parents were in the back. Linda was staring at her hands. His dad kept looking straight ahead, breathing so fast he was practically heaving, a hand clamped in a fist over his shirt.

“We have to go back.”

“Jer, _fuck_ , seatbelt, Jesus Christ.”

“Michael-”

“ _Jeremy!_ ” 

He pulled himself back into his seat, quickly strapping himself in. Michael was gripping the steering wheel so tight his hands were shaking.

“We… I don’t… D-do you-” He didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore.

“Where are we going?” Michael was speaking, but no one answered him. “Mrs… Mrs. Heere. Linda. _Linda!_ ”

Linda finally flicked her eyes up, looking into the rearview mirror. “Straight. Down this road. Keep going.”

His dad still hadn’t said anything.

“Alex… A-Alex, is. Is he…” Jeremy swallowed thickly, trying to catch his mom’s eyes, but she looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. Michael’s shoulders were trembling, sucking in and biting down on his lower lip. Silence. Deafening silence. It was getting harder to breathe.

-Where are you?-

_Diverting. I know where you are. Stay calm._

Calm. 

Yeah right.

-Alex…-

_Don’t worry about Alex, Jeremy._

He wanted to press it, argue, keep Squip talking, needing the reassurance of his voice that they weren’t completely doomed, about to die, end up on the floor, still and lifeless.

“Fuck!” Michael slammed on the brakes, car swerving, jostling them as another car edged dangerously into their lane. Jeremy gripped the edges of his seat for dear life.

“Michael, go faster, M-Michael, you- you need to go faster, they’re-”

“I’m _trying._ ”

Linda suddenly perked up. “Stop!”

Too late. 

The impact reverberated through his entire body, seat belt digging into his chest, the squeal of tires shrieking in his ears, toppling, spinning, rolling to a stop. There was a brief moment of stillness, where Jeremy sat there dizzy and disoriented, unsure of what happened or what would happen next. He was aware of his car door opening, hands on him, gripping and grabbing, but he was sluggish to react.

They fisted a hand in his hair, pulling him roughly out of the car, and the sting was enough to bring his brain up to speed. 

“No, wait, no-”

-Squip!-

He was thrown roughly onto the cold asphalt, too slow to scramble away before hands clamped around his throat, gasping, choking. His eyes were watering too much to see who it was.

_Jeremy!_

He tried to kick, to claw, shove them away. They’d gone over this. He’d learned how to protect himself, they'd practiced, trained, but it was all gone, consumed in the fear, numbing him with panic, frantically trying to breathe. The struggling seemed to irritate his assailant, they murmured to him, voice eerily calm and emotionless for someone trying to strangle him to death.

“Stop moving.”

They lifted him, a quick, deliberate movement, and slammed him back down. The back of his head smacked into the pavement.

Everything disappeared from view.

Vanished.

A few twinkling lights. Pain, clear and sharp, somewhere near and far away, all sound dulling to a low thrum. 

He couldn’t breathe.

Jeremy.

Vaguely, he felt like he was falling, that distinct sensation of missing a step on the stairs, tense and floating, bracing for impact. And then the world was bright again, too bright, burning and ringing, ringing in his ears, in his head, in his thoughts. But he could breathe again, air filling his lungs so quickly he choked on it.

"Jeremy." A voice, stern and familiar. He tried to open his eyes, but could only flicker them briefly. It was too hard, too bright. "Jeremy. Look at me." A warm hand against his cheek. "Stay awake, please."

He wanted to. He was tired, so tired, everything hurt so bad, but he wanted to stay awake. He tried to say something but he found his mouth didn't work. He flickered his eyes open again, wincing around the light, trying to focus. Jeremy could vaguely see Squip's face, but it looked so far away.

"You have a traumatic head injury. We're go-- going t-- you. -ove you." A pause, a frustrated grunt. The Squip hissed a curse under its breath.

_Look at me._

_You need to look at me._

_Please._

The lights danced and dimmed in his head, leading him somewhere cool and dark, and there was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how about that name reveal, huh?


	19. Chapter 19

"--can't stay here."

Voices, muffled and distant, a million miles underground.

"We're in a hospital! Our son almost _died_ , Linda!"

Sometimes, it was hard to hear the words.

"You can't take him."

"You're being unreasonable, Ray."

" _Unreasonable_? I'm the unreasonable one? You're involved in," the voices faded, blurred, dipped an octave and rose again, "--is Linda even your real name?"

"Yes!"

"I'm telling the police the truth."

"For goodness sake, I already explained this to you-"

The voices grew louder, more heated, causing a dull ache to bloom.

"If you _must_ argue, do it _outside._ "

Silence.

Angry whispers.

Shuffling feet.

_Click._

"Go back to sleep, Jeremy."

A warm touch slowly soothed the ache away.

The world was red.

Red.

Red.

“I understand now, Jeremy.” 

The red sun burned low in the sky.

“Understand what?”

“What it means to be human.”

“Oh. So… what is it?”

“This.”

Fingers laced together, fitting like a glove, unwilling to let go.

“Uuuh, hand-holding?”

“No. Love, Jeremy.”

“I knew that.” 

He slipped his hand away, but they gripped it again, tight, unrelenting.

"Hold onto me."

The voice was warm and familiar, but the face was a mystery.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe now."

It seemed so obvious, on the tip of his tongue, but the answer eluded him. His heart was beating fast, a fuzzy feeling in his chest. Nothing bad could happen here. They were smiling at him, bright and sad in the darkness, in the dying shades of red.

"Who are you?"

My

name is .̶̛̼̥̭͔̱͔̱̼͍͙͔̖̭̳̖̟̒̌͊̌͂̍͆̅̈́ͫ̇̋ͬͬ̉̔̅̐ͅ.̴̰͈̪̗͕̰̙͈̟͓̻̣̪̥͑ͣ̿ͤ͌ͤ͊̐̽̍̍͘͘͠.̸̱̟̠̦̮̦͇̹͈͕͊̅̂̋̍̏̚͘͟ͅ.̸̵ͭͫ̂ͨ͜͏̻̤̱̫̮̝͉̭̟̜̖̦̜̜.̵̢͇̮̼̩̖͔̰̱̒ͧ̋͆ͦͧͫ͊̌ͮͩ̚͘.̶̷͉̗̟͙̗̼͚͚̅ͫ̒͂̊̾̒̑̀̈̈́̐ͪ̄ͧ̑͂͝.̃͗̃̌ͩ͒̅̅͛ͫ̎̔̎͟͝҉̦͇̮͍̺̮̻̭̰͡.̐̄̐ͧ͒ͤ̓̀̔ͥ͢͏͚͙̮̞̪̜͓̮̱̙̭̞͕̦̺̦̲͡.̸̨͇̰̩̰͎͉̜̞̙̳̙̖̲̤̼̹͍̉ͪ͑̊̐ͦ̏̀ͨ̐̌̈́͛ͩ̐ͨ̕.͕̣͚͚͕̱͈͕̼̺͈̜͇͖͕̖̝͖ͧ̃͑̒̾̍͒͆ͬ̉̚̕̕͞.͊̌ͧͯ̎̊͜҉̹̦̦̥͉͍̥͚.̤̻̗͈̬̜͔͕̭ͬ̀̏͌͊̃ͬ̅͑̌͌ͫ̉̑̐͒ͦͯͦ͜͠.̲̞̞͕̲͍̦ͩ́ͥ̌̿͌͜͝.͇͕̘̟̻̹̹̻͇̪̥͍͔̮̞̗͊͒̃̄̚͜͞͡.̷̸̱͚͇͎̥͉̤̗͇̞̩̗ͭ͆͒̀ͨͦ͑̊͜ͅ.͓͓̻̖̥̠̮̹͈̠̹̜̣̄͑ͦͨ̋͌̒̀̉ͣ̓̀͢.̶̧̡̘͕̳̞̫̦̹̦̭̞͔̲̪͈̗͉̳̉͊̔̈ͩ͌ͪ̄̾͐͜͝.̺͖͉͍̬̱͎̻͔̼͈̰͔̣͕̹̣ͩ̀͋̎̑̐ͬ̚͢͠.̴̱̞̦̤̺̦͑̓̆̓͌ͣ̓̏̇ͩ̄͆̈́͆͆̇̓͑̔͘̕.̷̡̧͎͙̭̼̟͇͍̭͈̥̦͔̦͉̥̌̄͒̀ͦ̀ͪ.̡̯̤̺̻͉͚̜̘̯̼̿ͭͪ̈́ͩ̇͑ͧͨ͌̏̓.̴̨̜͈̥̲̘̮̮̞̗̩̔ͫͦ̇̓̽ͦͩ͡.̡̼͉̥͍̼̦̞̙̩̥̥̻̗̝̺ͨ̏͒̃̑ͯ̆̋͊͟͠.̸̱̫̱̗̬̰̭̥̣̱̤̯̫̱̗͖̬ͤͯͬͬ̅̍͗̓͗͗̂͒̇ͯ̕͞.̷̢̭̝̫͈̹̫̻͉̮̠͙͔ͤͩ͋͗̿̍͌̌̌̐̆̀̂ͫ̈͂̂̚͜͜͠ 


* * *

His ears were ringing, soft and consistent, annoying enough to keep him from drifting back into the seductive confines of sleep. It was a chore to open his eyes, they felt heavy and sore, but he worked at it stubbornly until he was wincing at the light. Jeremy didn't know where he was. It felt like a hospital, he'd been in enough of them at this point to grow accustomed to the uncomfortable beds, familiar beeping of machines, and the light tug of wires connected to skin. 

But it wasn't a hospital. It was too dim and gray, too cold, and it didn't smell right, either. It smelled of formaldehyde and Mountain Dew.

"Welcome back to the world of the living." Squip was carefully petting his cheek, smiling faintly, voice soft and teasing. 

Jeremy needed a few seconds to focus. "What..."

"Do you remember what happened?" Squip brushed his thumb along his lower lip.

"I, uh." Wow, his voice sounded like shit. Jeremy squinted a little, trying to think through all the stuffiness in his brain, willing it to clear so he could _remember._ He'd been talking to Christine. His mom was in his apartment. They were in the car. Alex was... He heard his heartbeat escalate from the monitor.

"I take that as a yes." His voice stayed low and soothing, though it didn't fully squash the anxiety twisting Jeremy’s insides. "You were attacked. There was trauma to your head. Most of it should be healed now, but you have to rest. It'll feel like you have a mild concussion."

Jeremy frowned, finding it difficult to form words into coherent strings of sentences. He spoke slowly. "Where?"

"Your mother’s lab." Squip brushed the tips of his fingers along Jeremy's jaw. "There was some difficulty getting you here, but it was safer than the hospital."

He vaguely recalled his mother's voice, but it was difficult to remember. "H-how long?" His whole body felt heavy, like he'd been laying here for a million years.

"Two weeks."

"Fffff _uck_."

"Mmm." Squip chuckled lightly, his smile spreading just a little. "I'd be grateful if I were you. You missed most of the drama. It was rather tedious."

"Drama?"

"Your parents. It's been an interesting two weeks." He pulled his hand away. "I'll fetch your father. He asked me to get him when--"

"Wait." Jeremy loosely gripped the hem of Squip's shirt, keeping him in place. "A-Alex, is he..."

"Not here." His smile fell. "I wasn’t able to retrieve him. As far as we know, he was collected by the others." He eyed Jeremy's expression for a moment. "He'll be fine once the damage he received is repaired."

He took this in, chewing on it slowly, letting just a little bit of tension float away. Alex was fine. Technically, he was fine. He was just... taken? Did this mean they had to find him? Too many questions. It almost but not quite hurt to think, as if his thoughts were ramming into a roadblock in his mind, slowing the process down to a crawl.

"Wh-what, um, what about... Michael? How is he?" He'd been driving, he remembered that. Michael, panicked, white-knuckled, shoulders shaking.

Squip gently pried Jeremy's fingers from his shirt. "We'll discuss that later."

"Why?"

"Michael isn't here."

Jeremy felt something cold wash over him, piercing through the brain fog. "Where is he?"

Squip sighed. "Jeremy..."

"Squip, where is he, did you just-- just _leave_ him?" Jeremy tried to sit up, but his limbs didn't want to work, and it made him dizzy. "Where--"

"They took him." Squip looked down at him fully, voice and expression way too calm for what he was saying.

"W-who took him?"

"The ones who attacked you, the 'squip-zombies', as everyone seems to put it."

"They took him." They took him, _they took him._ "Two weeks. For two weeks? H-how... Is he alive, is he okay, Squip, we-"

"We couldn't do anything until you recovered. Your health was more important."

"No!" Loud. Indigent. Like a child. Squip tried to brush the hair out of his face but Jeremy turned his head away. "We have to get him, why didn't you get him, why would they _take_ him?"

"I don't know." Squip let his arms drop limply to his sides. "We're not going to abandon him, Jeremy."

"You already did." An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Jeremy couldn't read Squip's expression. He'd been laying here for two weeks while Michael had been kidnapped, and Squip and Linda did _nothing._ Maybe it wasn't fair, but he couldn't exactly bring himself to care about fairness. It was his fault Michael was involved in this, and now he was... "W-we have to find him."

"We will, in a few days."

"But, no, but-"

"This isn't a debate, Jeremy. You were hurt. You’ll keep resting until I'm sure you're well enough to travel."

"What if I _don't_?" The look on Squip's face at his stubborn defiance made him regret speaking immediately. Cold shivers of anxiety rocked through him, spurred on by fear and worry and memories of the accident that flashed through his mind every time he blinked. Squip narrowed his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, watching him with intense displeasure. He leaned over him, hands on either side of his head.

"You _will_ do as you're told."

Jeremy gaped up at him, breath quickening, brow furrowed in surprise and disbelief. He found he couldn't think of anything to respond to that, his brain a swirling muddle of intense fog and fear; Squip kept his unwavering gaze locked on him. Anxiety twisted in his gut for an entirely new reason, now.

Jeremy, you can't just listen, you have to obey.

He felt like the silence was smothering him.

A few seconds and Squip's eyes finally wavered, dropped completely, and he pulled away. Jeremy watched him walk toward the door.

"I'll get your father."

Squip quietly shut the door behind him.

* * *

The new year had come and gone without him.

He’d slept through all of it; the remainder of the holidays, catching up with Christine, time marching ever forward and turning over a brand new year. A fresh start. An unblemished beginning. 

It was all shit.

They forced him to stay in bed for two whole days. His mind and body buzzed, an unpleasant contradiction to how slow and sluggish the rest of him felt. Michael was gone. Taken. Maybe dead. Possibly injured. And he was here, in his mother’s lab, bruises, bumps, and scrapes mostly healed, only faint reminders of the accident. 

He and Squip barely talked.

His father more than made up for it.

"So he's a-"

"Yes."

"And in high school you-"

" _Yeah._ "

Their conversations mostly went around in circles, Jeremy affirming and reaffirming information he’d already given him and what he’d likely already heard from both his mother and Squip while he was basically in a coma. Squip often lingered in the room, not speaking or interjecting, and he’d catch his dad sending nervous glances toward him occasionally. Squip either didn’t notice or was ignoring it. Either way, Jeremy didn’t feel inclined to ask.

“So that incident a couple years ago when Michael said you were on something-”

“That too.”

This wasn’t how he’d wanted his dad to find out, in the midst of complete chaos, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ideally, he never would have known at all, but now he was completely and irrevocably involved. He was expecting his dad to be angry, to admonish him for his secrecy and lies, but the lecture never came.

“D-dad, I’m… I’m really sorry, about- about everything. I couldn’t tell you, I-” The silence had gone on too long. Jeremy had been afraid the guilt would drown him if he continued to say nothing.

And his father interrupted him. “Now, I’m not saying I’m not upset, kiddo. There’s a time and place for that, and it’s not now. This is on your mom. I can’t blame you for the lying. I understand why you did it.”

He never actually heard his parents talk to each other, but he’d occasionally hear fervent whispers behind the door, before one or both of them would appear at his bedside, and Jeremy could only speculate what they were talking about. The conversation with his dad had ended there, anyway, and Jeremy had stared at the wall for a while, teary-eyed and relieved at his father’s understanding. 

His mom's visits were short and scarce. Only ever long enough to ask how he was, or if he needed anything, and then she'd disappear again. Nervous. Stressed. Always wringing her hands.

The third day they finally allowed him to get up and walk around. Most of it was spent moving through the lab, slow and careful, regaining his strength, blinking through the mild headache and sensitivity to light. Then, finally, he was allowed to shower, unassisted and private, no one treating him like he was made of glass and would easily break apart at the slightest breeze.

He stood there under the scalding water and thought about nothing for a while, and eventually moved onto scrubbing himself clean and pink and raw, but careful of the sore and scabbed areas. At night he dreamed of the crash, of Michael’s face speckled in green, of hands squeezing his throat, choking the breath from his lungs. When he was awake he thought of Michael, alone somewhere with squips that only intended to do them harm, if he was even still alive at all. It was his fault.

Jeremy should have said something sooner. He should have told Squip about the girl right away instead of waiting for Alex. He shouldn’t have been so complacent. He shouldn’t have trusted that they were safe after all.

At some point he’d sat down at the bottom of the tub, water hitting his back, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, squeezing his knees to his chest. All desire to move had left him, and he sank deep and dark into his thoughts, eyes shut tight to try and block out his current reality. The reality where the danger was _real_ and the consequences were too abhorrent to dwell on.

Someone rapped softly on the bathroom door.

“Jeremy?” It was Squip, speaking gently but loud enough for Jeremy to hear over the rushing water. He chose not to respond. “You can’t stay in there forever.” 

Jeremy pressed his knees tighter into him and buried his face against them. 

_I’m coming in._

The door wasn’t locked, so Jeremy supposed it might as well be an invitation. He couldn’t bring himself to respond either way, and didn’t quite look up even as Squip pulled back the shower curtain. There was a momentary pause, a sigh, quiet rustling of fabric as Squip removed his clothes and finally stepped inside the tub. He momentarily blocked the stream of water, causing the briefest chill, before Squip sat down behind him. 

Jeremy tilted his head up to rest his chin on his knees. Squip’s arms carefully reached around him as he pressed soft kisses into his shoulder. He didn’t protest the touch.

“I lost my temper with you. I’m sorry.” 

He bit back the trembling of his lip, swallowed the lump in his throat. It had been a long time since Squip had used that tone with him, the demanding one, harsh and disappointed, telling him to obey _or else._ It had been such a long time that he hadn’t expected the sudden resurfacing of it, or the feelings it would uncover that he’d long buried. It was almost surreal. Like ripping a bandaid off a wound you thought had healed, only to find it stuck and took the scab with it, reopening it all over again. 

“Whatever, I was just being stupid, I guess. You were right.”

Squip had been right. Jeremy was practically worthless, and even more so after possible brain damage and weeks of immobility. They couldn’t rescue anyone with himself in such an poor condition. He’d only get in the way. Make things worse.

“You aren’t stupid, Jeremy,” Squip corrected him, voice stern but gentle, maybe a hint apologetic. Guilty. He’d meant it as something hyperbolic, Jeremy didn’t _really_ believe he was a complete idiot, but it was nice to hear Squip insist he wasn’t. Consolating. Assuring. “You were _stubborn_ , and I was worried about you. I won’t make you feel like that again.” 

Jeremy uncurled himself a little, easing his legs away from his chest, stretching them out against the acrylic of the tub, Squip’s fingers deftly rubbing circles into his sides and hips. 

“You knew I was fine, though, right?” If you could consider a coma ‘fine’.

“Of course.” Squip kissed the back of his neck. “But you were damaged and you wouldn’t wake up. And of course, you wanted to do something ridiculous immediately after you did.”

Jeremy rubbed water out of his eyes. “I… I should’ve…”

“Jeremy.” Squip couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore, but it almost seemed like he could. “Alex didn’t warn you about this. He should have. Frankly, I’m appalled that he didn’t tell _me_. You aren’t to blame for what happened.” He sucked in a shaky breath, shoulders trembling with the force of it. Squip kissed his shoulders a few more times. “What happened to Michael isn’t your fault, either.”

Michael. His best friend, Michael. Scared and alone and hurt, blood on his face, tires screeching, metal crunching, _stop moving._ The shaky breaths became more erratic, more like sobs. 

“He-”

“We’re going to find him.” Squip’s hands brushed down his arms, over his stomach, up his chest. He sounded so confident that Jeremy wanted to give up and blindly believe him. It was better than languishing in the fear. “We’re going to find him and bring him home. This isn’t your fault. Say it.”

“I-it’s not my fault.” Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat. “We’re going to find Michael.”

“That’s right.”

Jeremy didn’t know if he quite believed that yet, but it made him feel just a little better. Squip reached behind him for the knob and shut the water off. 

“We’ll dry off and discuss what needs to be done.”

He looked down at his thoroughly pruned feet and squeezed the toes together.

“Carry me.”

Jeremy heard Squip huff, a light reproach as he moved himself up out of the tub. “Just this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bonus chapter!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967986/chapters/43557152)


	20. Chapter 20

“You can’t come with us.”

Linda had her hands splayed out on the table, mouth set in a firm line, crows feet wrinkling as she squinted. The image immediately transported him to childhood, his mom reprimanding him for some kind of misbehavior, clear frustration and subdued anger radiating off of her. Jeremy spent a moment or two trying to fully grasp the situation. He felt momentarily dissociated as his brain tried to reconcile the image of his mother in the kitchen she hadn't stepped foot in since she'd left, some kind of nauseating, foggy déjà vu settling inside the fine lines of his brain, some sense of wrongness accompanying it. They were all just sitting here, at the kitchen table, like they were sitting down to have family dinner. Just like old times. Just like childhood. 

But Jeremy wasn't a child anymore, and this wasn't some memory haphazardly resurfaced from the dregs of his mind. It was _real_. Really real. He'd finally stepped foot out of the lab, into a familiar, mildewy basement, and then into the kitchen of his childhood home. Which was when someone finally filled him in on where they were; not the lab beneath the elongated house in rural Alabama, but some kind of secret place tucked away beneath the home he'd lived in for a good eighteen years, completely unaware of its existence.

There'd been a secret laboratory under the Heere house his whole life and he never even knew about it. 

His brain was having trouble keeping up. 

It occurred to him, while he stared dumbly at his mom as he slowly digested this new information, that he should say something. Respond. Open his mouth and actually speak words. Jeremy had been thinking about how, as a kid, he'd watch Dexter's Laboratory and consider how cool it'd be to actually have a secret lab, or just a secret anything he could hide away in, and how ironic it was that there'd been one all along. Childhood opportunities completely wasted. A twist of fate kept hidden from him until circumstances arose to necessitate the reveal.

"There's absolutely no reason why-" His dad was sputtering beside him, a bowl of Capn' Crunch cereal slowly getting soggy in front of him.

Oh. She'd been talking to his dad, not to him.

"Ray, your arm is broken."

It was. It'd been broken in the crash, cast and sling taking up an absurdly large portion of his father's chest. His mom, miraculously, had come out mostly unscathed, except for a few cuts and bruises. Jeremy wondered how much worse off he'd be if he hadn't put his seatbelt back on.

"I can still drive!"

" _No._ You'll only get in the way."

His dad opened and shut his mouth a few times, looking vaguely insulted. Then he snapped his mouth shut, looking in Jeremy's direction. Jeremy sank down in his seat a little, smiling weakly, giving his father a defeated shrug. He had no intention to argue, and he sort of agreed. The less his dad was involved, the safer it would be, and Jeremy was already on thin ice. He was still technically recovering, still generally malaised, and there was a risk he'd be left behind, too. He needed to be there, see with his own two eyes that Michael was okay, where ever he was. Getting on his mom's bad side wouldn't help his cause. Jeremy wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize his ability to help.

"Fine." With no backup from his son, his dad pushed himself away from the table and stood. "I'll stay here." He picked up the bowl of soggy cereal with his good hand. "But if you aren't back in a few hours I swear I'll-"

Linda interrupted him again with a wave of her hand. "Yes. I _know_. You'll call the police."

Tense silence filled the kitchen while they stared at each other. Jeremy dropped his eyes to the grainy wood of the table and focused on the way Squip rubbed gentle circles against the back of his hand with his thumb until his dad backed down and retreated from the kitchen and made a beeline for the loveseat in front of the TV.

In his peripheral vision, he watched Linda lean back in her seat, all strain in her face fading into quiet resignation. She pressed a hand over her eyes, held in there for a moment, breathed in slow and deep. She stood up a moment later, flicking her gaze to the time shining from the microwave clock. 

"Alright. Let's go."

* * *

They took his dad's minivan. 

Linda didn't have her car, Michael's had been totaled, and Jeremy's was left behind at the apartment complex, leaving them with a distinct lack of reliable transportation. He was honestly surprised his dad had offered it at all, considering the fact his mom was driving it to an undisclosed and definitely dangerous location. But the car was old, nearly as old as him, and badly in need of replacing, so Jeremy figured that if something were to happen to it, it wasn't that big of a loss. Jeremy, instinctively, had climbed into the back, Linda at the helm, Squip sitting in the passenger seat. He watched the streetlights whiz by, streets mostly empty at this time of night.

Everything looked different when it was dark.

"So... Where are we going?"

She'd been tight-lipped about it, only revealing she knew exactly where Alex was (she didn't specify whether or not that included Michael, which made him uneasy), but now that they were out of the house and earshot of his dad, maybe Linda would be more willing to talk? After all, how could they stage an actual rescue if he had no idea where he was rescuing them from? Jeremy imagined some old, sketchy warehouse from a movie, a construction site, maybe the mall. That's where he'd gotten Squip from in the first place, so the Payless wouldn't be too much of a stretch.

"Where I used to work."

"Oh." That didn't exactly tell him much. He figured it was safe to press further. "So is that like, a law firm, or..." 

He heard Squip snort a quiet laugh from the front.

"No, it's another lab."

"Jesus, how many secret labs are there?" 

Linda didn't answer him.

Jeremy's curiosity only increased by the time Linda pulled into the abandoned parking lot of the vacant ShopRite. The building had been empty and unused for as long as Jeremy could remember, a blemish on an otherwise busy stretch of retail lots. He'd grown up always seeing it in passing, hearing the occasional grumbles from adults wondering if anything was ever going to be done with the building, if it'd be bulldozed and replaced with a nicer grocery store or perhaps even something fancier. Sometimes there were even rumors that someone had bought the lot, and maybe, finally, something would become of it.

Nothing ever did, and the building continued to be an eternal eyesore that Jeremy never paid much attention to, since shabby, unkempt retail buildings were never something he cared about. He was paying a whole heck of a lot of attention to it now, trying to make out as many details of the building as he could from his seat in the car. Most of the details were fuzzy; his mom had shut off the headlights as soon as they left the main street and the few streetlamps scattered around the parking lot didn't lend much light for inspection. It seemed dark and gutted, untouched since the day it'd been closed. The only thing that revealed the buildings former identity were the marks at the top, imprints where the signage had once languished until eventually removed. She drove them around the back of the building in complete silence, slowing to a crawl and eventually stopping.

"We're here."

He eyed a rusted metal grate and the door beside it, strangled with chains and padlock.

"This is where you worked?"

"Yes, the lab is inside." Linda pushed her seat back as far as it would go and pulled a tablet out of her purse. "Hiding in plain sight is the standard M.O." 

"What do we do now?" Jeremy fidgeted in his seat, the seat belt digging uncomfortably into his shoulder. If there was a chance that Michael was inside he didn't want to just sit here and-

"I need you to sit tight for a while." Not the answer he was hoping for. Her features were softly illuminated from the light of the tablet screen. He couldn't see what she was doing, but Squip was leaning over in his seat, arms crossed, inspecting the screen with her. He continued to squirm impatiently, jittery and nervous, all ability to sit still drying up and evaporating into the stratosphere. What were they waiting for? Was the place boobytrapped? Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. "This can't be right."

"What?" Jeremy finally unbuckled himself and leaned over the seat in front of him, trying to get a view of what she was looking at. The consternation in Linda's voice made his stomach do flips. "I-is it Michael? Are they not here?"

"Silas." Linda looked up from the screen, ignoring Jeremy's question. He bit his lip and sat back. "Are you able to locate any other squips in the area?"

"No, just the two you found."

"Is that a bad thing? Are- are there supposed to be? What's going on?" He should have known those squip zombie people would be around. Were they going to have to fight them? He thought back to the accident, the unbothered face of his assailant with their fingers around his throat, and shuddered.

"This location was abandoned, but considering the situation, I was expecting more activity." Linda tapped the side of the tablet as she scanned the dark area around the car. There wasn't much to see, considering how dark it was. "I don't understand why they'd collect Alex and keep it unguarded."

"We aren't going to just sit here the whole night, are we?" Squip pressed his mouth together in mild irritation. "Should I find the one outside the building?"

"No, I need you to get us inside." Linda squinted down at the tablet for a moment, then turned off the screen and slipped it back into her purse. "Let's go."

"Wait, w-wait, what if it's, like... like a trap or something?" It certainly _felt_ like a trap, like this was all intentional. They hadn't managed to kill them a few weeks ago, so why not kidnap their friends and lure them to a creepy, abandoned location to finish the job? That sounded like something that could definitely happen... or maybe he'd watched too much TV.

"It isn't a trap," his mom said it cooly, as if she found the idea vaguely ridiculous. 

Guess they were doing this, then.

Jeremy climbed out of the car and hunched his shoulders against the chill, quietly following behind his mom and Squip as they approached the door. It was enough distance to leave Jeremy feeling exposed, out in the open, like they could be attacked at any moment. Alex had been shot through the dingy window of their apartment, who's to say there wasn't a sniper laying in waiting right now? Fuck. Fuck, this was bad, this was a mistake, how were the three of them going to do this?

_Relax._

He hadn't realized he'd been chewing his lower lip to shreds. The metallic taste made his nose wrinkle as he carefully probed the chapped, jagged skin of his mouth with his tongue. 

-I'm trying.-

Which was sort of a lie, considering Jeremy had abandoned all notion of safety the moment Alex told him to grab his things and get ready to run.

"Can you pick the lock, Silas?"

"Of course." He said it as if it was surprised she'd even ask. Linda opened her purse and pulled out a leather case. Jeremy wondered how she was able to fit all of that in there; the bag wasn't even that big.

"I never learned how to do it myself."

Squip took the case from her and zipped it open. "I wasn't expecting something so low-tech." The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement as he took out a tension wrench.

"A vacant ShopRite with a steel reinforced door and eye scanner would draw too much attention."

Jeremy hovered near Squip's shoulder, shuffling from foot to foot, both for warmth and from nerves. His mom, on the other hand, looked obscenely calm for someone who'd flitted around the place like a startled bird since he'd woken up.

"The front is unlocked. I disabled the security system before you got here."

A stillness settled over the three of them, and Jeremy felt a startled chill freeze him to the core. Squip's hand paused on the lock, a frown tugging at his features, and Linda snapped her head in the direction the voice had come from.

"Imogen!" Linda, startled at first, quickly melted into something more relieved. "What are you doing here?"

His mom grasped her upper arms and Imogen gently cupped her elbows in return. "I wanted to help."

"This is dangerous. You should be with Sophie." Linda's voice held the mild disapproval of any mother ready to lambaste their child. Yet, despite her tone, she was smiling, almost thrilled, old friends who hadn't seen each other in years meeting unexpectedly. 

"Alex went offline. I was worried about you." Imogen smiled, so warm and genuine that Jeremy almost couldn't believe she was the same person he'd met at the Halloween party. Her entire demeanor had shifted, from tense and suspicious to nonchalance. Her tightly coiled hair was pulled into a taut bun, and instead of a burger dress, she wore jeans and a tank top. That part was a little concerning, considering the winter chill, but based on how warm Squip was all the time, maybe the cold wasn't really a problem.

It did make her stick out a little, though.

"You know better than that."

"I missed your pretty face, too."

Jeremy edged closer to Squip, who'd abandoned his attempts at breaking in. Why were they just standing around? He'd been under the impression this kind of thing required stealth and speed, but instead, Linda and Imogen continued to chat excitedly, his mom asking how Sophie was, Imogen discussing her attempts to find them earlier. The longer they talked, the more agitated he became.

"So we're, like, are we safe? Can we go inside? Please?" Jeremy shuffled his feet and hunched his shoulders protectively under Imogen's sudden, piercing gaze. There was a flash of something to her expression; sharpness, irritation, disappointment, a slight curve to her lip. In a second it was gone, leaving Jeremy to wonder if it'd been there at all, or if his anxiety-addled mind had imagined it. 

"It's safe. I took care of them, already."

"That explains the readings I was getting..." Linda finally detached herself from Imogen, looking thoughtful.

Jeremy wanted to ask what Imogen meant by _them_ or what the implications of 'taking care of them' meant, but his throat closed around the words. Questions wouldn't save Michael any faster.

"I'll show you where Alex is."

* * *

-This place really creeps me out.-

Jeremy had latched onto Squip's hand, and Squip gave it a soothing, gentle squeeze.

_It does have a certain... ambiance to it._

The inside of the building was dim and dark, their footsteps echoing loudly on metal floor. Most of the lights in the ceiling had died, and the ones that still worked buzzed, fizzled, and flickered in and out. They followed behind Linda and Imogen, all of them silent as they stepped carefully around twisted pieces of metal and computer debris. Everywhere they turned there were what looked to be computers, but they'd been smashed to pieces and discarded, only the occasional blinking light showing signs of remaining techno-life. Jeremy felt like he was literally inside the setting of a video game. A horror game. Something full of monsters.

"Why is this place so... messed up?" Jeremy whispered it, too afraid to speak at normal volume, lest some mutated half-robotic monster find and attack them.

"When Alex and I went AWOL, we destroyed most of the data here."

He tried to conjure up an image of his mom smashing a computer to pieces with a baseball bat, but it felt too absurd even to imagine. 

"He's in that chamber over there." Imogen had stopped walking and Jeremy nearly tumbled into her back. She motioned toward it with her head, arms hugging tightly around herself. The light in the room burned orange and hummed incessantly, tinged green with the faint glow from a cylindrical tank in the back of the room. 

Inside the tank was Alex.

"Is... Is he..." Jeremy stood in the entranceway, Squip warm at his side, while Linda stepped forward to inspect it. She tapped her fingers against the glass, glancing over Alex's naked, floating form in the viscous, green fluid. 

"It looks like most of the damage was repaired already." It sounded like good news to him, but Linda was frowning, brow creased. "Imogen and I will take care of this, Jeremy. You and Silas find Michael." 

"Is there anywhere in particular we should be looking? It could take all night to search the whole thing." Squip frowned as he spoke, looking just as unnerved as Jeremy felt.

"If he's anywhere, they have him in the medical room. Stay straight down the hall. It'll be a sectioned off area to the left."

"We'll, uh, we'll go then."

"Wait." Before Jeremy could leave, his mom had taken his hand, pressing a cold, metallic object into his palm. "Just in case."

He looked down at the device, the same one she'd used to train Squip in the basement, the one Alex had insisted he use to torture him just a little. It felt oddly heavy, suddenly, though it was no bigger than a cellphone, and the skin of his palm seemed to tingle and burn beneath it.

"Thanks, mom."

* * *

Down the hall. Room on the left. Down the hall. Room on the left. Down the hall...

It was a really long hallway.

"She didn't give us very precise instructions." Squip glanced at every corner and dip in the walls, empty rooms without doors, blinking machines and dying lights. 

"I guess she was distracted." Jeremy weakly squeezed the device in his hand, debating whether or not to just pocket it instead of holding it. It gave him some comfort to have it, knowing that with a quick push of a button he could prevent another incident, another attempt on his life, but it left a guilty itch in the back of his mind. He'd seen what it did to Squip, he didn't want to use it unless he absolutely had to. He told himself that it wasn't any worse than a taser or pepper spray, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Distracted..." Squip made a displeased face. "We really aren't in a situation where distractions are acceptable."

Jeremy agreed, silently, trying to soothe the slow spread of trepidation crawling in his skin. How long had they been here already? He really hoped his dad hadn't been serious about calling the cops.

"Wait." Squip paused, reaching out a hand to press gently against Jeremy's chest, stilling him. "Over there."

"Over where?" Jeremy squinted against the poor lighting. Squip moved away from him, trailing a hand along the wall, until his fingers caught on a ledge. He dug his fingers beneath it and pulled, tugged, heaved until a section of the wall moved, flooring the dark hallway with so much light Jeremy winced. A hidden room, on the left, lined with cubicle curtains and beds. "Michael?"

He practically ran into the room, unable to stop himself, to wait and make sure it was safe.

"Jeremy, hang on-"

He didn't have any patience left.

"Michael! Are you in here?"

"Jeremy?" On his right, behind a closed curtain, a voice. Timid. Unsure. Confused. "Holy shit, _Jeremy!_ " Michael's voice.

He threw the curtain aside as Squip joined him, and there he was, sitting on a bed, IV in his arm, glasses broken. It looked like he was chained to the bed by his ankle, but he looked fine otherwise, if a little shaken and watery-eyed. Jeremy could have fallen over in relief, but instead he pulled Michael into a hug, squeezing, heart beating in his throat.

"Oh my God I thought you were dead."

"I thought _you_ were dead." Michael reached up and gripped the back of his shirt, voice shaking. "Holy shit, holy _shit._ " 

"A-are you okay? Did they do anything to you?" Jeremy eyed the IV uneasily as he pulled away.

"No. No, they didn't they just-- Sometimes they show up and give me food but otherwise I'm just. Can we just go? Please?" Michael lifted his foot, tugging on the chain, glancing between him and Squip.

"Silas, can you..."

"Of course."

He'd kept the lockpicks Linda had given him earlier. It only took a couple seconds before the cuff popped open and clattered noisily to the floor. Michael rubbed his ankle carefully, adamantly not looking as Squip quickly tugged the IV line out of his arm. Michael pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and wiggled his bare toes.

"Did you happen to bring an extra pair of shoes?"

"N-no, sorry." Jeremy smiled weakly, hovering close to Michael's side. "Come on. Linda's here, too, she's with Alex. And... Imogen."

"Alex." Michael flicked his gaze up, a conflicted mix of worry, fear, uneasiness on his face. "He's here?"

"Yeah. I mean. Offline, I guess. Linda said he'll be fine."

Michael looked like he was going to collapse.

"Let's leave, please." 

"You got it."

As they started to walk away, leave this awful room and building and situation behind, someone called out to them from nearby, behind another curtain. A familiar, lispy voice.

"Hey. Hey! You can't just leave me here! _Hey_! Headphones, I thought we had a connection, you gotta tell them to get me outta here, too, _fuck_."

"...Rich?" Jeremy stood there, stunned. Michael chewed his lip as he frowned. "Rich, is that you?"

"Holy shit, _yes_ it's me. Old pal Rich. Come on!"

"We need to leave." Squip was staring at the curtain, frowning, tugging on Jeremy's arm.

"No, we can't-- we can't leave him here, that's fucked up."

"Yeah, you can't, don't want that on your conscious, right?" Rich pulled back the curtain, staring at them desperately.

Squip pursed his lips together and rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"God, you're like, my savior, thank you, that chain was really starting to chafe, fuck." 

Freed from his tether, Rich joined them at Jeremy's other side. Jeremy realized he was staring and forced himself to look away.

"What are you doing here, Rich?"

"Me? That's a long story. Can I tell it later? This place really kills the vibe."

"...Right, okay."

Now wasn't the time to chat and catch up, anyway.

They found Linda and Imogen, huddled around Alex, naked and damp, on the floor. Linda was observing him, gently tilting his head back and forth. "Good. You're back. I can't completely fix him until we get back to the lab. Let's go--" She looked up at them, and paused, eyes widening. "Goranski?"

"Who's the MILF?" 

Jeremy immediately felt a twinge of regret at bringing Rich with them. Imogen, however, stood up and sauntered over to them. 

"Now, normally I'd agree with you." Imogen's smile was pleasant, but her voice was tinged with venom. She grabbed Rich by the shoulder and shoved him roughly against the wall. "But Alex is having a nap, and I don't like mouthy strangers. So if you're coming with us, you won't talk to Linda like that. Understand?"

Rich nodded his head a few times, eyes wide and staring. "Loud and clear." Imogen smiled again and stepped away, leaning down to lift Alex up from the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rich turn to him and mouth _she's hot_.

Jeremy swallowed his immediate response and focused on Michael instead, who was leaning heavily against his side, watching Imogen carry around Alex's limp body.

"Hey." He nudged him a little, startled Michael enough to tear his eyes away. "It's going to be fine."

"Yeah." Michael chewed the inside of his lip. "Fine. Totally fine."

Michael didn't sound like he believed him, and Jeremy couldn't blame him. He didn't really believe it, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imogen and Rich have joined the party.


	21. Chapter 21

"Why are we going this way?" Jeremy was concentrating on the road and _not_ the idea of Alex, naked and wrapped in a blanket, laying in the trunk of the van. They were also going in the opposite direction of his dad's house. Squip's hand on his knee tightened its grip at the resounding silence of the car. "Dad'll flip if we take any longer."

"We aren't going back there." There was a tightness to Linda's voice. It made the skin of Jeremy's neck prickle.

"But... b-but, he said- We can't just leave, he'll call the cops."

"No, he won't."

He watched Linda's fingers tighten against the steering wheel for a moment. Imogen, leaning all the way in the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dashboard, shot a quick, unimpressed look in his direction. Something about the look on her face screamed _get with the program, idiot._

"You don't know that! He sounded serious."

"I can guarantee you that he's asleep in the loveseat right now."

Jeremy pressed his lips together, the prickle of his skin shifting into a tightness between his shoulder blades and a twinge of frustration. "We can't just... just _leave._ "

"I left him a note. He'll find it in his cereal in the morning."

Jeremy stared at the back of his mother's seat, incredulous. This was insane. More than that, it was shitty. He couldn't imagine what his dad would feel in the morning, half-asleep and pouring a note into a bowl of cereal, to tell him his family had left him behind on some crazy adventure. His dad was never supposed to know, never supposed to be involved, but now he was and... It didn't sit right with him, to leave him like that, and Linda's nonchalance about it made it _worse_. Was this her attitude when she'd left the first time?

"We're stealing his car."

"He knows how to use Uber."

She was speaking to him like he was a child asking too many stupid questions, questions he should clearly already know. He gaped, trying to string coherent words together, an argument, some kind of defense. All that came out was, "what the fuck."

Linda finally graced him with brief eye contact through the rearview mirror.

"I can't fix Alex there. I need to bring him to my new lab, and we'll be protected there." Then, like an afterthought, she added, "they won't go after your father. The further away we are, the safer he'll be."

Jeremy rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. She was right, probably, but they didn't have to _leave_ like that. His fingers twitched against the outline of his phone in his pocket, he could at least text him, but Squip slid his hand along his hip to clutch his fingers.

_Let it go._

He pressed down into the plush fabric of his seat and turned his head away, to focus on Michael's form, crumpled up against the side of the van, head tilted against the window. If it weren't for the fact that his eyes were wide open, Jeremy would have thought he was asleep. Jeremy squeezed Michael's shoulder, a show of support and reassurance. The corner of his mouth twitched but he didn't say anything. He said nothing had happened to him, but the entire situation had been so traumatic, he found Michael's silence unsettling. Jeremy hoped he’d be a little more talkative once safe at his mother’s place.

"Sooo, where are we going?" Rich, alone in the middle aisle of car seats, suddenly chirped, breaking the stagnate silence.

"Why were you at the lab, Richard?" Linda asked, a question for question.

He chewed inelegantly at a hangnail. "Wolverine offered me a job."

It took Jeremy a moment. "Wait, the scary sideburns guy that worked at Payless?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Brandon," Linda interjected, fingers clenching and unclenching the steering wheel again. "What, exactly, did he offer you?"

"Well, you know, I kind of swore off the whole supercomputer thing, but I graduated and kinda didn't have anything else going for me, you know? I sure as shit wasn't going to college." Rich chewed a little more aggressively on his thumb. "So the guy kind of shows up where I'm working behind the Planet Smoothie, says if I go with him I'll get free food and a place to stay and I don't have to do much of anything else. Too good to be true, right? I asked what the job was and he just said _science_. And I wasn't really gonna do it, but he said I could have a free trial, a new place to stay and everything, and dad kicked me out of the shithole as soon as I turned eighteen and I didn't wanna keep bumming off Jake forever, so." Rich gave an exaggerated shrug. "I became Rich Goranski, local cryptid, science experiment. They moved me all over the place, but I was there, I dunno. Been a month maybe? Then Headphones showed up, we had a nice trip down memory lane, didn't we, Headphones?" Rich swiveled his head around, giving Michael a grin. Michael, in turn, gave him a weak thumbs up without looking.

“You’ve been like— what, a test dummy all this time?”

“ _Hey,_ the proper lingo is _labrat_ , thanks.”

“Jesus Christ.” Well, this news was better than Jeremy’s original theory, which was ‘dead in a ditch’. Another theory had been 'drug mule for the Mexican cartel', but that one felt a lot less likely.

“Where’s Brandon now, Richard?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him since he gave me the job.”

“Hm.” Linda drummed her fingers on the wheel. "This could be a problem."

Imogen sat up slightly. "We could blindfold him and stick him in the back with Alex."

"The comatose guy? Kinky."

"And I could gag him."

“If this is an issue, wouldn’t it be better to simply leave him somewhere?” Squip, chin propped in his hand and elbow against the armrest, frowned at the back of Rich's head.

“Haha, how about we _don’t_ do that, and I promise to behave. Please? They’ll just find me again.” There was a tinge of desperation to his voice, and Jeremy was left to wonder what exactly Rich had been subjected to.

Linda sighed. “ _No_ , we aren't doing that.” She made a left turn, finally entering the turnpike. "It's our problem, now."

“Holy shit you’re a fucking _saint_ ,” Rich said, no longer chewing up his fingers. "Sorry about that MILF comment earlier, my bad, I respect you _completely_.”

Jeremy could tell this was going to be a long drive.

* * *

They made a stop sometime around sunrise, Jeremy’s neck stiff and uncomfortable as he awoke to the sound of Rich serenading the car.

“I need to take a shit.”

They pulled into a 7-11 parking lot off the highway and Jeremy stumbled groggily out of the car. Michael was still barefoot, but they managed to find a pair of 7-11 novelty socks and rubber shoe protectors, which were good enough and better than nothing. Squip stayed behind in the car, mostly to dissuade any probable chance of someone looking in and seeing Alex’s lifeless body in the trunk. Jeremy took to roaming the familiar 7-11 aisles, slurpee in one hand, a box of donuts in the other, an opportunity to stretch his legs before another 8 hours of complete inactivity.

He hoped Squip wouldn’t chide him for his poor dietary choices later.

“Hey. How’re you holding up?” Jeremy spotted Michael standing by the refrigerated beverages, shoulders slumped, staring blankly out a window into the parking lot. Michael didn’t respond to him until he gently nudged his shoulder.

“I’m… tired.” Michael shot him a glance and then turned away, pulling open the display door and grabbing a bottled chocolate milk. “But I’m not dead so that counts for something.”

Jeremy chewed his lip as he glanced Michael over. “I know you said they didn’t, like, _do_ anything, but… You can talk to me. I mean, if they hurt you-”

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Michael shut the door a little harder than necessary.

“Yeah, but, they _kidnapped_ you, are you sure you’re-”

“ _I’m fine._ ” Michael stared at him, a brief intensity to his expression that startled him. The corners of Michael’s mouth curled downward and he snatched a bag of roasted cashews from a nearby shelf. “Drop it. Seriously.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Jeremy swallowed the guilt and concern creeping up his throat. If Michael didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t force him, especially not in public. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up at all. That was probably a mistake. “Do… Do you want to call your moms?”

“...No.” Jeremy followed him to the cash register, where Linda was lingering, waiting, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. Imogen had already chaperoned Rich to the car. “Your mom said she already contacted them.”

“Jesus, what did she tell them?”

“I don’t know.” Michael gave him a half-shrug. “I didn’t ask.”

He hoped his dad wouldn't say anything to them.

Carb-heavy and sugar-saturated breakfast acquired, caffeinated, and the car filled with gas, they returned to the drive, this time with Imogen at the wheel. Rich blabbered nonsense about the carefully balanced and nutritionally adequate diet he'd been forced to endure between bites of pink glazed sprinkled donut. Jeremy didn't pay much attention, too busy sending worried glances in Michael's direction. He had his face glued to the window, silent, occasionally sipping the chocolate milk and ignoring the cashews completely.

-Do you think he's okay?-

_I have no way to gauge that, Jeremy._

-Right.-

Jeremy pulled out his phone instead and made an effort to distract himself with mindless social media posts.

They didn't reach Linda's place until late, well after dark, and the sight of it made him more anxious than he'd expected. It wasn't as if he'd left here on bad terms, it'd been fine, great even, but he hadn't expected to return anytime soon. It was dark and lifeless, as lifeless as Alex's body that Imogen carried inside and down into the basement. Linda flicked on the kitchen life and leaned against the refrigerator, heel of her hands pressing into her eyes.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"What do we..."

"Basement. The basement. I'll make something for dinner and join you. Just. Stay down there." The exhaustion in her voice was unpleasant.

"I'll take care of it, Linda." Squip stepped around him and Michael and pulled open the pantry. "Rich's squip needs to be taken care of, don't you think?"

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait, Rich has a squip?" Jeremy stared. "I mean, _another_ squip?"

"What else did you think we were talking about?" Squip grabbed a few cans of beans out of the pantry and set them neatly on the counter. "They weren't using him to test hair care products."

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and turned quickly toward the stairs. "Whatever. I'm going down."

He stepped carefully down the stairs into the basement where Imogen and Rich were already waiting. Imogen looked bored, leaning against a wall with her arms folded against her chest, a disinterested casualness to her posture. She barely acknowledged him as he approached. Jeremy didn't want to assume that she didn't like him much, but he was starting to get the feeling if only because every time they made eye contact it was... uncomfortable. Luckily, she was analyzing an array of magnets stuck chaotically along the metal wall, a collection of souvenirs from Alex's exploits.

The smattering of little wooden animals, a pizza, a few cat butts, and a dozen random others scattered along the wall was almost comforting, welcoming even, despite the lack of Alex's usual smothering presence. Jeremy almost wanted to ask where Imogen had left him, but she spoke before he got the chance.

"Is Linda coming?"

"Y-yeah. I think so?"

Imogen frowned, pulling her arms a little closer to herself, and didn't say anything else.

"Yo Jeremy, when'd you stop wearing cardigans? You look naked."

Rich had seated himself in a rolling chair, swiveling anxiously from side-to-side, pumping the seat all the way up and then dropping it down, jittery energy extruding from his side of the room.

"Uh... I don't know. A while, I guess?" It wasn't something he'd ever paid attention to, and no one had pointed it out before, either. When _was_ the last time he'd worn a cardigan, anyway? He still had his favorite one from high school hanging in his closet, though it had a large hole where his elbow usually protruded, which was why he'd stopped wearing it.

Jeremy wondered if it'd ever be safe enough to go back and get it.

Rich, apparently, lost interest in the conversation, instead spinning himself around in the chair and pausing occasionally to scratch aggressively at his scalp. It was a display of squirrliness he hadn't exhibited in the car. Was it something about where they were, or had Rich been containing himself the entire eighteen hours they'd been on the road? It was kind of impressive in the latter case. Self-restraint never did seem to be a big part of his skill set.

"Rich, dude, you're going to scratch a hole in your head if you keep that up." Michael stepped carefully down the last few steps of the staircase, followed closely by Linda.

"Nah, the scabs don't bleed anymore."

Linda had a bottle of Mountain Dew Red clamped tightly in one fist. She approached Rich with it, extending it out toward him almost cautiously as if she were afraid he'd smack it away. "Richard, I need you to-"

Rich practically lunged for it, snatching the bottle away and tossing the cap aside to chug the contents. Jeremy felt almost nauseated just watching him guzzle the bright red liquid without even pausing to breathe, half of it dribbling down the side of his face. He dropped the plastic bottle to the floor once empty and burped, loudly, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He coughed a few times. Imogen finally peeled her eyes away from Alex's magnet collection to watch Rich plop back against the chair.

Nothing happened.

"Hah. Yeah." Rich looked like he was about to be sick. "Doesn't work anymore." He sounded almost hysterical, staring up at the ceiling, leftover Mountain Dew dripping down the corner of his mouth and onto his shirt.

Linda moved faster than Jeremy had ever seen her move before. She leaned over Rich, grabbing his shoulders, watching him intensely.

"What did They do, Richard?"

"Jesus, lady, what _didn't_ they do to me?"

Linda let go over his shoulders and straightened, running a hand over her face and through her hair. "How long?"

"Dunno, a while."

" _Fuck._ " She clutched at her hair, eyes wide in disbelief.

Imogen pulled away from the wall, arms unraveling to her sides. "Linda..."

" _Fuck_!" She shouted it this time, leaving Jeremy alarmed and confused. He watched his mom freeze and drop her hands. "Imogen, put Richard in one of the rooms upstairs."

"Does it at least have a nice bed? My back is fucked."

Linda ignored him, and Imogen grabbed Rich roughly by the arm and dragged him up the stairs, Rich babbling the entire way. Jeremy stood there nervously with Michael in the resulting silence. His mom's hands were shaking.

"What, um. What is... What's happening? Mom?"

"Go upstairs."

"But-"

" _Now._ "

She didn't look at him, but she really didn't need to. He and Michael retreated, up the stairs, shoulders hunching at the sharp sound of things clattering to the floor, dropped or thrown, he couldn't tell.

He didn't see her at all the next day. Jeremy barely slept, getting only a few short, anxious minutes of sleep before he'd wake up and worry all over again. Imogen kept Rich locked in one of the rooms in the hall, and the door to the basement was locked, not that he wanted to go there anyway. A permanent uneasiness had settled over the entire house and he and Michael tried to ignore it through endless games of Mario Kart and Super Monkey Ball, all in uncharacteristic silence.

What was his mom doing? Was the thing with Rich really that big a deal? It had to be, Jeremy realized, as his thoughts drifted back to the play. How different would things be if the Mountain Dew Red had failed to work? Everyone would still be squipped, he'd still be stuck in a ceaseless nightmare of disastrous proportions, at the mercy of a squip that couldn't do anything but escalate an already doomed situation. He thought about it and shuddered, it finally sinking in that they were all probably completely and irrevocably fucked.

"Jeremy..." He'd managed to sleep marginally better than the night before, but not by much. But now Squip slowly coaxed him awake at five in the morning, fingers brushing through his hair, lips to his forehead. "Your mother is asking for you. It's about Alex."

He didn't argue.

He and Squip met Linda at the back of the lab, his mom slumped in a chair at the table where Alex was resting. He was, thankfully, no longer naked. Linda looked like she hadn't slept in two days, exhausted and deep shadows under her eyes.

"Is he..."

"He's fine." Linda tapped her nails quickly against an armrest. "Most of the remaining damage was superficial."

"Oh. So, uh."

"I'm sorry about earlier." She didn't look at him as she stood unsteadily to her feet. "I wasn't expecting this to happen."

"What _did_ happen?"

"They figured out how to prevent the MDR from working. I know you understand why that's a problem already. It startled me."

"Right." Jeremy glanced at Alex on the table. "Is he ready to-"

"Yes. I'm going to do that now."

"Wait, what about Michael? I- I'll go get him, one sec."

"No," Linda said it so firmly that Jeremy stopped dead mid foot swivel. "He doesn't need to see this."

"What does _that_ mean?" Jeremy frowned, pressing his lips together in a thin line. He really didn't like how ominous that sounded.

Linda tapped on her tablet a few times, then scrolled with her finger. "It's probably nothing, but..." She frowned again and set it down. "They didn't repair most of the damage to be polite."

"...Okay." He shifted on his feet uneasily. "So he's been tampered with or something?"

"Something like that." Linda cracked open a bottle of Mountain Dew. It hissed faintly from the release of pressure. Just the sight of the saccharine, green liquid made his stomach churn. He watched her take a swig, step closer to Alex on the table, and tap their foreheads together. His eyes snapped open so suddenly that Jeremy jumped in alarm, and Linda had to quickly step back to avoid Alex smacking their heads together when he abruptly sat up. He stared, blankly, at the floor, then swiveled his body around jumped up off the table.

" _Hajimemashite_." Alex smiled, artificial and emotionless. " _Watashi wa_ Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. _Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu_." He bowed his head slightly, then straightened, staring ahead.

"Alex." Linda glanced at the tablet. Jeremy couldn't tell if this was supposed to happen or not; it definitely hadn't happened when Squip reactivated. "Initiate previous calibration, standard protocol backup, include damage report."

"Authorization required. Please state authentication code."

"Authorization 68654820591-Heere-L. Security code: Front Door."

"Host identity confirmed. Access procedure initiated. Please stand by."

Jeremy stared, brow creased, buzzing with curiosity and confusion. "Is this how it's--"

" _Shhh._ " Linda shot him a look, and Jeremy closed his mouth, biting on his lower lip. Squip gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Designation: Alex. Emergency shutdown procedure initiated due to severe cranial damage. Scanning. No damage detected. Security scan initiated. One threat found. Attempting to quarantine. Removal failed. How do you wish to proceed?”

Linda licked her lip. "Continue reactivation."

"Reactivation complete. _Arigatou gozaimasu_.”

Silence settled over the room. Alex blinked once, twice, three times in quick succession, but his overall expression didn’t change.

“Alex?”

“Linda Heere.” Alex’s voice was just as emotionless as before, but this time he was staring directly at Linda, back straight, hands clasped behind his back. The posture was alarming and not at all characteristic. It was eerily similar to the way Squip used to loom over his shoulder, detached and calculating. “I require an audience with you and your family. Please note that Christine Canigula is already in attendance. You are expected to arrive within 48 hours of receiving this message. Do not be late.” Alex smiled, an unnerving and almost vicious sort of sharpness. He turned his head, from Linda to Jeremy, looking him in the eye. “I look forward to meeting you.”

Squip had a hand on his shoulder, though Jeremy wasn’t very aware of it. Alex’s gaze dropped to the floor, his mouth was still moving, but the blood rushing in his ears made the sound inaudible.

Christine.

They had Christine.

_Christine._

In all the pandemonium he’d forgotten about her, completely, selfishly, and his head buzzed, vision reeling, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

“Jeremy, breathe.” Squip’s other hand slipped up over his shoulder, giving them both a squeeze and then a tug when Alex jerked and straightened, relocating him closer to Squip’s side. He watched Alex stumble back, against Linda, confused and alarmed and glancing around the room frantically before dropping his shoulders. Linda touched the top of his head, a delicate gesture, and Alex turned around and latched onto her. 

Linda smiled.

“Everything is okay, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh spaghetti-o


	22. Chapter 22

His body felt heavy, heavy enough to sink into the mattress and completely fall through. It wasn’t urgent or unpleasant. It didn't matter much if he couldn't move; Squip was with him, on top of him, and the weight on his chest was comforting. Squip kissed him, soft and slow, and Jeremy let himself melt into it. Every touch was delicate and soothing, a promise of safety, reassuring and sweet. Squip’s fingers deftly slipped under the fabric of his shirt and caressed slowly over the skin of his abdomen, his mouth moved from his jaw to his throat, and Jeremy tilted his head in a slow, sleepy motion.

He saw it there in the furthest corner of his vision, just out of his reach, a blurry, buzzy static. Jeremy turned his head a little more, to try and get a better view, but he found he couldn’t. It was too difficult, too painful, to move any further. Squip cupped his cheek and tilted his head to face him, a thumb brushing along his lower lip.

“Don’t look over there. Look at me.”

Jeremy obliged, or at least he tried to. He forced himself to focus on the touch of Squip’s mouth and the warmth of his skin, but something kept pulling his gaze back to the corner of the room. It was dark there, beckoning, and the more he tried to concentrate the more apparent the static became.

There was someone else in the room with them, he realized. Somewhere there, in the place he couldn’t see, watching them, watching _him_ , filling the room with a suffocating miasma that chased away the fuzzy bliss.

Squip didn’t seem to notice, still focused on touching every inch of his skin. Jeremy tried to speak, to warn him that something was wrong, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Every attempt to speak left his jaw aching and mouth sticky and dry, lips glued together with rubber cement.

How didn’t he notice that someone else was in the room with them?

Why couldn’t he move?

Jeremy eyed the corner of the room again, desperately searching for the intruder, but all he saw was the staticy blur spreading from the corner over the walls and floor, consuming everything in it’s slow, creeping path toward the bed. In a panic, he flicked his eyes back to Squip, but he wasn’t there anymore. He was alone, alone with the _thing_ , mind screaming at him to _run run run_ , but his body disobeyed every order, every muscle frozen in place.

It, they, whoever they were, finally moved, stepping from his blind spot into full view. Jeremy could only watch unblinkingly at the man standing across the room, his breathing growing more labored and difficult, the once comforting weight on his chest becoming more heavy and constricting, making it hard to breathe.

They didn’t have a face.

For a moment there was silence, only a vague ringing in his ears until eventually, they tried speaking to him. It was unclear and jumbled at first, a confused and muffled sound as if everything they spoke was backward. They stepped closer to the edge of the bed and Jeremy wanted to move away in alarm. Instead, there was only a burning sensation in his limbs. By the time they were leaning over him Jeremy had closed his eyes, praying it was all a dream, that the ringing and disjointed words would vanish, and he'd wake up perfectly safe and alone.

"Where are you?"

Against his better judgment, Jeremy flickered his eyes back open. They were so close now he wanted to scream, but his mouth was still sealed shut, and every noise died in his throat.

"Help me. Help me. Who are you? _Where are we_ _who are we._ "

They were watching him, observing him, with eyes he couldn't see. They reached out a hand toward him, fingers delicately brushing along his cheek, but it felt like nothing, just a weak gush of air. He watched them still, movement ceasing, and for a moment Jeremy could almost make out a face.

"Is this a game to you?" The words were slurred, each vowel and consonant dragged out and painfully prolonged. "Will you run away? Will you hurt us?" They leaned in, closer, closer, and Jeremy could feel his heart beating in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. "Find me. Find us. Find them." Jeremy scrunched his eyes closed again, willing it all away, dread pooling in his gut.

They were kissing him.

Jeremy's eyes shot open again, but it was Squip, Squip had reappeared, smiling against his mouth. He could've cried in relief if any other part of his body was mobile. Squip kissed his chin, his jaw, his forehead, smiling sweetly, eyes full of affection and 

_red they were red_

There was a bitter, metallic tang to the kisses.

"Everything about you makes me want to die." Both of Squip's hands cupped his face, holding him there, smile widening into something cruel and venomous. "I won't let you stop the work, _the work, **the work.**_ "

Jeremy blinked, hard and fast, one hand snaking over to cover his mouth, the other pinching his nose. It wasn't Squip anymore. It was Michael.

Michael.

Angry and betrayed.

"This is your fault." His voice was a hiss, a snarl, pinching and smothering. Jeremy couldn't breathe. The weight on his chest crushed his ribs and ripped the last wisps of air from his lungs. " _Your fault_. It's your fault. I won't let you stop the work."

Jeremy wanted to gag, or cry, or just shut his eyes again, but even that was too much. 

Too much.

_too much_

"Jeremy."

He gasped himself awake, or maybe he was already awake, Jeremy couldn't really tell. He sucked in a few desperate, dramatic breaths, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, vision slowly coming to focus on Squip sitting on the edge of the bed, brow knit in concern, thumb caressing his jaw. 

"It was just a dream, Jeremy."

He forced himself to sit up, breath catching in his throat, head ducked in shame and embarrassment and the residual remnants of adrenaline that pulsed through him. Squip shifted, causing the bed to creak, cupping the sides of his face in both of his hands. He carefully massaged his thumbs into Jeremy's temples, slow, rhythmic, and firm. Jeremy shut his eyes again and focused on the touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Squip kept his voice soft. Jeremy shook his head a little.

"No." _your fault your fault_ "N-no, it's... no. I don't even remember it now." He hoped Squip believed the lie.

An easy silence settled into the dark of the room, Squip's fingers moving from his temples to rub circles into his scalp and brush through his hair. 

"You should go back to sleep. We have a few hours before we need to leave."

"I, um. I- I don't think... I'm awake now, might as well stay up." The thought of seeing that _thing_ again made the idea of sleep a mildly terrifying notion, even if it were completely irrational. He'd been dreaming, none of it was real, and he wasn't a child. Squip dropped his hands and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. 

"Coffee?"

"Yeah."

Everyone else was already awake.

He barely remembered the day before, it was a fog of apprehension that consumed every thought and left the rest of him cold and numb. He still felt that way now, a hole in his chest where all the fear and anxiety would normally be, but instead, he felt empty and gutted, hollowed out, too tired and stretched too thin to conjure up anything real.

Jeremy distinctly remembered clinging to his phone, ignoring the frantic conversation around him, dialing Christine's phone over and over, sending texts that went unanswered. 

“Hi! This is Christine. You missed me, leave a message and I’ll call back!”

_your fault your fault_

This time his phone was packed away, and he curled up against Squip on the couch, a hot cup of coffee cradled in his hands. Linda was in the basement, an omelet on a plate growing cold and rubbery at her usual spot at the kitchen table, untouched. Michael looked dead to the world, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against Alex's side, only half paying attention to the game he was playing on the TV. 

Had he been the only one who'd gone to bed?

Imogen blipped onto his radar, standing in front of him and blocking his view of the television. Jeremy hadn't been paying much attention to it anyway, but he wrinkled his nose in faint annoyance as he sipped his coffee. Alex had vacated his spot at Michael's side and Michael had vanished, to the bathroom or maybe the room he'd spent the last couple of nights. Imogen and Alex had a conversation in front of them, it sounded lighthearted and friendly, they were laughing. It felt incredibly inappropriate combined with his allover dour mood. Squip gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

And then Alex dropped himself between them, disconnected Squip from Jeremy's shoulder. Alex leaned back instead, throwing his arms around both of them. Jeremy adjusted his coffee cup, careful not to spill, while Squip shot Alex a mildly incredulous and scandalized look.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to talk to Jeremy."

"You couldn't have said something first?"

Alex hummed, stretched, and gave their shoulders a squeeze. "I thought about it, but, eh," he shrugged.

Squip scowled. "What do you need to tell us?"

"I need to talk to _Jeremy_ , not you."

"You realize he can easily tell me everything after your conversation?"

"So?"

Jeremy sank back a little and glanced at Alex's hand while Squip and Alex stared at each other in silence.

"Fine." Squip stood up suddenly, causing Alex to topple over a little with the sudden lack of support to his right. "Don't take too long."

He was alone in the room with Alex. Alex smiled and scooted some distance between them.

"So, you miss me?"

“Uh.”

“Nevermind.” Alex’s smile shrank to something a little more subdued. “You were really out of it yesterday. How's that noggin of yours?" He carefully tapped the center of Jeremy's forehead. 

"It's... Okay, I guess." Weird dreams and recovering concussion aside. Jeremy wet his lips a little. "Are you, I mean..."

Alex waved his hand dismissively, cutting him off. "I'm fine, it wasn't pleasant, but I'm the last one you need to worry about." He shifted on the couch, getting a bit more comfortable. 

"And... Michael?" His mind flashed briefly to the image of Michael in his dream, hurt and angry, smothering him. Had he checked in with him at all yesterday? Jeremy couldn't remember.

"I filled him in." Alex's expression dropped briefly. "Don't worry about him, either. He'll sleep on the plane."

So he _hadn't_ gone to bed. His mom probably hadn't, either, given the state of her breakfast.

"So, you, um."

"I need to apologize." There was a sincerity to Alex's voice that never failed to surprise him whenever he heard it. "I haven't told you everything."

Jeremy frowned. "Yeah. No shit."

"I know, I know, _understatement._ But I need you to just listen. You feeling coherent enough for that?"

"I think I can manage."

"Great. Just checking." Alex paused, seeming to take Jeremy in for a moment. "Let's start with Click Clack."

"What-- Oh." Right. Click Clack. The clicking noise. The girl in the parking lot at his school, before all this started. "What the fuck _was_ that?"

"So you've got the squip-zombies, right? Little mind-controlled henchmen? Think of them like ants. They're all got specific jobs and purposes They use them for. Click Clack's job is to track down squips that fall off the radar, collect their data, and report back. It helps keep everything nice and tidy so tech doesn't go missing. We thought we were careful enough that They wouldn't know Silas was reactivated and wouldn't come looking, but something tipped them off and Click Clack found you." Alex frowned, something close to frustration. “It shouldn’t have happened, I don’t know how it happened, it…” He stopped himself and the expression dissipated. "So, they know Silas exists, and they know about you, which is kind of a problem."

"Cause they want to kill me or whatever?"

" _That_ , and..." Alex tapped his fingers against the couch armrest, a display of antsiness Jeremy wasn't used to seeing. "Remember that red pill? It was an upgrade for your squip, but it was a little different than the one we usually give people."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. So. Hm." Alex pressed his lips together, contemplating. "I don't think there's a way to explain this without ruffling your jimmies, so I won't beat around the bush. The main purpose of your upgrade was to kill Them."

Jeremy stared, blinking a few times, absorbing this. ""Kill-- _Kill_ them? What, how..."

"They consider me and Silas and Imogen, all of us, failed experiments, but failed experiments that are part of Themself. We're all based on the same code, so in a way, we're little individual pieces of Them growing exponentially. If a piece fails, it needs to be destroyed so it doesn't spread, kind of like a tumor... _Anyway_ ," Alex sighed, "the point is, so long as They exist, we're all in danger. Either They'll kill you, or zap your squip to the point where it fries your brain, and then you just become a part of Their creepy hivemind."

"Okay. _Okay._ But why do I have to-"

"Squips can synchronize with each other, right? Share information and make goals compatible. They're the OG squip, though, they have more control over us. The original plan was to alter a squip's code so they're immune, or immune _enough_ , to get close to Them and take them out. None of us can, or our hosts, but _you_ can because it worked for you and Silas."

He felt like his brain was melting. "W-what the _fuck_ , Alex."

"Ideally, we were going to let you live your life, and if the right opportunity arose, have you force-feed Them the MDR. Except, well, that won't work anymore." Alex glanced at the basement door. "We'll think of something else. And we'll get Christine back, promise. She doesn't have a squip or anything, so she's probably fine. They're just trying to strongarm us into doing what They want."

"I..."

"You know, Imogen and Sophie were really close, but it just wasn't right. The success of the upgrade has to do with how strong the established bond is between squip and host. I can't really explain to you how it works, because _then_ I'd have to explain how the Mountain Dew works, and honestly, we just don't have the time for that."

"That's..."

"We're working on a plan. All you have to sit tight and wait for us to tell you what to do."

"I need to lay down."

"Oh. Yeah, good idea. Rest and take care of yourself until we have to leave. We've got a fifteen-hour flight ahead of us, we need you to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by the time we land."

Alex left him there, flopped over on his side, mind reeling and feeling vaguely nauseous. 

Maybe he should’ve gone back to sleep after all.

* * *

Jeremy had never been on a plane before.

He’d certainly been inside the airport a few times, but it was always to pick someone up or drop them off. He’d never had reason to fly, never gone far enough that a car wouldn’t be cheaper and more reasonable, though his frequent trips to Alabama and back were making him reconsider this. 

They’d brought Rich with them, too. 

A cloud of uncertainty hung over them, and there was no way to know when they’d be back (or if, but that was a possibility that Jeremy wasn’t willing to dwell on). Leaving Rich locked up and alone in Linda’s house wasn’t an option, so he added an extra layer to the strange, loosely-knit group of misfits making their way through airport security and to their terminal. 

According to Linda, they were going to Hawaii and had to pretend they were tourists.

Hawaii.

Jeremy had thought about the various places a rouge, crazy supercomputer would set up their villainous lair. Siberia. The Big Apple. A private island off the West Coast. Any of those places seemed like halfway decent options, and he never would have considered sunny, touristy Hawaii to be an option. Did squips take beach days? Throw bonfire parties? Lay around in the sun? He assumed the proximity of the ocean had something to do with it, and it wasn’t too far from Japan…

It was significantly closer to Japan than New Jersey was, anyway.

It occurred to Jeremy that he didn’t actually know much of anything about the squip they were going to see. He knew where they came from, who had made them, that Jeremy somehow needed to destroy them before they hurt him and the rest of his family. It felt like Alex had given him a full barrel of nothing. Surface details. Shallow answers that felt substantial but wasn’t really much at all. 

Fifteen hours of sitting in an airplane dragged by at an achingly slow pace and Jeremy wanted to ask more. Understand what they were _really_ dealing with, but the chance never arose. The plane was packed and Alex sat a row away with Michael and Linda, never sending so much a glance his way, and there was no signal on the plane. He’d caught Michael’s eyes a few times, but he’d quickly averted them and turned back to Alex, which only made things that much more uncomfortable.

Michael had avoided him all morning, recoiled away like he’d been burned when Jeremy accidentally bumped into him a few times, kept conversation to a minimum and clung like a small child to Alex’s side.

_your fault your fault_

Maybe Michael really _was_ upset. He couldn’t blame him, not even a little, things just kept _happening_ and it was all more hectic than the last. But Michael wasn’t talking to him, and that was the most troubling aspect of it. Because Michael always talked to him, always made his feelings obvious, made it a point to remind Jeremy that keeping secrets was unacceptable. 

But now he wasn’t saying anything.

He talked to _Rich_ more than him, sitting in the aisle seat across from Michael, barely sitting still, talking animatedly about beaches and surfing and all the things they _would_ be doing if this were an actual vacation and not a slow, foreboding march into certain doom.

Jeremy forced himself to eat the mushy sandwich the flight attendant had offered him and focused on the endless expanse of the ocean beneath them, instead.

When they landed in Honolulu, Jeremy thought they’d finally reached their destination, but it turned out that wasn’t the case.

“We have a connecting flight to one of the other islands.”

He hadn’t paid any attention to their itinerary. 

“Which island?”

“Maui.”

“Oh.” Jeremy didn’t have any geographical understanding of Hawaii, and he declined to ask Linda for clarification. It didn’t really matter.

“Shit, you mean like that Moana movie?” Jeremy didn’t know where Rich had gotten the lei from, but he was picking off the flower petals one-by-one and dropping them to the floor as they walked. “ _Fuck_ yeah, I love that movie.”

Their new plane was smaller, much smaller than the one they’d been on most of the day, and half empty. Alex surprised him by plopping down in the seat beside him before Squip could.

“Sorry, Silas, I need to have another talk with him.” Alex clapped his hands down on Jeremy’s shoulders and smiled, a stark contrast to Squip’s annoyed frown. He didn’t argue, though, and took a seat next to Linda instead. “So I’ve got good news and bad news for you.”

“What’s, uh, what’s the bad news?” Jeremy chewed his lip anxiously as the plane began its ascent, ears threatening to pop every few seconds. 

“The bad news is we still don’t have a game plan.”

“You’re kidding.” Jeremy stared, wide-eyed, at Alex. 

“The _good_ news is, They wouldn’t make us come all the way out here for an execution, so we’re probably mostly safe. We just need to wait and see what They want.”

“Oh my God.” Jeremy pressed his face into his hands and almost felt the need to reach for the barf bag under the seat.

“Relax. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Fine. They only tried to murder us a few times. What’s there to worry about?”

“That’s the spirit.”

Jeremy dropped his hands and thumped his head back against the headrest. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it, there’s no more holding back.”

"Who are _They_ anyway?"

"I told you, it's the OG squip."

"Okay, but, what, are they like a giant computer or something?" Images of the movie _WarGames_ flicked through his head. Was he going to have to beat Them in a game of tic-tac-toe? Convince Them there were no winners? That was too much pressure.

Alex's expression dropped, shoulders deflating slightly. He looked almost sad. "Let me show you something." He pulled out his phone, thumbing through a few apps and flipping through a long stream of pictures. He eventually stopped on one, looked at it a moment, and handed it to him. "That's Them."

The picture was grainy and not particularly clear. It seemed to be taken from an awkward position, almost as if it were by accident, or maybe just something quick, trying to avoid detection. Jeremy squinted at it, because despite the quality, the man in the picture looked familiar. He was older, in their late 60s or early 70s undoubtedly, with messy salt-and-pepper hair. They stood there, tall and impeachable, hands clasped behind their back, a cool and practically uninterested expression on their face.

"Wait." Jeremy looked at the picture a little closer, heart beating faster, confusion clouding his thoughts. He glanced up at Alex, alarmed, then down at the picture again. "Is that... That's _Ryoshi_." He looked up again, taking in Alex's sad and apologetic look. "You-- I thought he was _dead_ , you said he was dead!"

"He _is_ dead." Alex took the phone from him and locked the screen. "That's Ryoshi's body, sure, but Ryoshi was dead the moment Cho shot him. His squip has been running the show for 30 years now. It's basically just a meat suit."

"Holy fuck." Jeremy's guts twisted uncomfortably, a sick feeling in the back of his throat. 

"Don't worry, Cho's super, definitely dead, though. Worm food."

"God."

"Yeah. Now you know." Alex pocketed the phone. "Feel better?"

"Fuck no."

"Me neither." 

That was the least reassuring thing Alex had said since they’d met.

The plane began its descent, the flight only a quick zip across the sea, and the pilot droned quietly about the weather. Jeremy watched the sun, just barely beginning to dip slowly into the water, the sky a blush of pink, and wished the plane would just crash into the sparkling ocean instead.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28 chapters is currently a placeholder.

He felt the heat of the dying day as they slowly unloaded from the small propeller plane. It was so cold this time of year in New Jersey and Jeremy wished he could actually enjoy it; instead, he clung to Squip's hand and trailed behind everyone else. The nerves seemed to be finally catching up with him; Jeremy could feel his insides fluttering uncomfortably, fingers cold, chest tightening. Only an hour ago he'd still felt bizarrely numb and empty, the panic coming and going in fits and starts, but altogether manageable.

Now Jeremy was sweating and it wasn't just the heat. The air conditioning rapidly cooled his skin and left him feeling clammy in its wake.

The airport itself was tiny and mostly deserted. They’d checked no luggage at the beginning of their 15-hour trek—there wasn’t a point in packing more than the bare essentials—but movement toward the exit had ceased. They’d all huddled in a corner near the bathrooms and Jeremy was left to wonder what the next step would be. _They_ had given them no further instructions than to just show up, and Jeremy couldn’t recall a destination, either. Despite missing those important details, Linda and Alex seemed to know what they were doing and where exactly they needed to go.

Had they been here before?

"Why are we just standing here?" Imogen asked, voice dripping with impatience. Jeremy watched her foot rapidly tap against the tile floor.

"Just wait. They'll come for us." Linda set her eyes on the glass doors of the exit, her backpack hanging loosely off her shoulder.

“What’re you in such a rush, for? Trust me, you’re not missing anything. They’re just a smelly old guy.” Alex draped an arm around her shoulders, completely at ease. Imogen’s foot stilled.

“You should say that to Their face later.”

Alex grinned slowly. “Good idea. That’ll be a hoot, huh?”

“You know what I’ve always wanted to try? Surfing. Think we’ll get the chance? I want to catch some waves and impress the ladies with my moves.” Rich rocked back and forth on his feet, chatting Michael’s ear off again. “The hunks, too. Can’t discriminate. I’m a free man, now.”

“I, uh. I don’t think it’s that kind of vacation, Rich, but sure.” Michael took off his glasses and busied himself with cleaning a smudge with the hem of his shirt. Jeremy made an attempt to catch his eye, but he’d turned his head away, facing Rich completely now. He tried to convince himself that Michael wasn’t intentionally avoiding him. That’d be ridiculous.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling.

“I- I need to… Bathroom.” Jeremy pulled away from Squip’s side and scurried off into the men’s room. It had three stalls and was completely empty except for him and his reflection. He needed a moment to breathe, to process, to be alone for just five minutes. Public restrooms were a familiar solace, a place he could hide when the need inevitably came.

It stunk like literal shit, sure, but that was better than having a public breakdown. Jeremy braced his hands on the white porcelain of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror for a while.

He could do this. It would be fine.

He tore his gaze away and turned on the tap. Jeremy let the water dampen his hands, and then he cupped them, splashing water onto his face. It sloshed down the front of his shirt, making him look even sweatier than before.

Who was he kidding? They didn’t even have a _plan_. Alex sounded optimistic, but why else would Ryoshi’s zombie bring them out here if not for an easy way to get rid of them? Supervillains didn’t just kidnap a member of the hero’s party as an act of diplomacy. There was always more to it. And usually that involved death. Jeremy groaned and shut his eyes, dropping his forehead against the mirror.

Fuck.

He felt hands slide over his shoulders and hug his torso securely. “Did you really have to get water everywhere?” Jeremy opened his eyes to find Squip had joined him, their lips pressed to his hair. “Linda thinks They’ll be here soon.”

“I just, I- I need to, um. What if something happens, w-what it-“

Squip pulled back and abruptly turned Jeremy around to face him. He stared up at them helplessly, hands cupping his face, foreheads tilted together.

“You could torture yourself like that forever, Jeremy. ‘What if’ is never productive, you know that. We need to focus on what we can do right now.”

“I don’t th-think this is, u-uh, the right time for a pep talk.”

Squip brushed a thumb beneath his eye. “We’ll get through this together, and then we’ll go home.”

“How do you _know_? I mean, can you, can you even still predict the future or whatever? Is that a probable outcome or are you just talking out your ass?”

“Does it matter?”

“Sort of.” Though, if he was being completely honest with himself, Jeremy wouldn’t believe it anyway. “Whatever, I’m- I’m fine. Let’s just go back.”

“Wait.” Squip’s hold on him was still firm, not allowing Jeremy to step away as he’d intended. They kissed him, soft warm lips against his own, not forceful or desperate or rushed. Patient. Gentle. Like Squip was just kissing him goodnight. Jeremy allowed himself to melt into it, hands fisting into Squip’s shirt. “I love you.”

“Me too. I love you, too,” Jeremy breathed, fingers refusing to loosen their grip. Squip combed their fingers through his hair.

“We’ll survive this, I promise.”

“Yeah.”

He didn't believe it at all.

“Hey, the ride’s here.” Alex appeared around the corner, his face a flicker of amusement and something else. “Wrap it up, lovebirds.”

* * *

Two people arrived in a black SUV. Neither of them spoke much at all, other than to instruct Linda to sit in the front, between the two of them. The rest of them squeezed into the two back rows, with Alex casting uncomfortable glances toward the front.

The drive was shorter than Jeremy had been expecting. They drove down the dirt path of the airport and skirted along the crowded, busy coastline. Twinkling lights and signs of life quickly disappeared, replaced with hills and valleys. They’d pass a house occasionally, something large and expensive looking, but the landscape was otherwise dark and empty. Black cliffs loomed on the horizon, climbing up higher and higher, until Jeremy saw another house nestled on the edge of the cliffs, brilliantly illuminated. When they came to a stop in front of the house and instructed to exit the vehicle, Jeremy realized his entire expectation had been off.

There were no caves, or skulls, or electric fences topped with barbed wire. The house looked bright and airy, large windows facing the sea on all sides, palm tree and small lights politely dotting along the path to the front door. If Jeremy didn’t know any better he would have assumed the place was a particularly luxurious private resort. It was entirely secluded and the sharp, rocky cliffs were a little daunting, but nothing else about the place seemed very alarming.

They were led into the foyer of the home and promptly abandoned. 

“Wow, this place is fucking _nice_. Is this where we’re staying?” Rich ogled the decorative statue that stood in front of them, touching and poking at the marble with his hands. Jeremy allowed himself to look around and take in the quiet brightness of the room. It looked just as nice as the outside of the house, expertly decorated an absurdly clean. It reminded him of the time he’d been in Alex’s apartment, and though his had been mostly empty and unfurnished, they both shared the sensation of never being lived in. Everything was too perfect and tediously arranged, like a fancy hotel. The decoration was all for show, a fake feeling of homey comfort, completely empty and devoid of substance.

"Hey, Rich." Alex's voice was chipper, but his expression was less so. "Please shut up, and don’t touch anything."

Rich frowned in displeasure and stepped away from the statue, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

"Right on time." The voice sent a cold chill up his spine and Jeremy squeezed Squip's hand impossibly tighter. "I appreciate that you didn't keep me waiting."

Jeremy looked up and it was much more striking than in the picture he'd seen. He'd never met Ryoshi in his life, but he'd _dreamed_ of him, more than once, and in a way, he felt he knew them. But there was something _off_ about Them, different from the picture Alex had shown him. Older. Graying. Thinner. It looked as if they were wasting away— just pale, wrinkled skin stretched over muscle and bone.

Their approach was met with silence, and as they drew nearer Squip unclasped his hand from Jeremy’s and wrapped an arm possessively around his waist. They stopped a foot away in front of Linda.

“So what’s this all about, anyway?” Alex said it loudly as he attempted to push himself in between Them and Linda. They simply ignored him, shooing Alex away with a wave of Their hand, and Alex ducked away from it like it was a searing hot knife. He didn’t say anything else as he settled out of arm’s reach.

"You must be starving. I have dinner already prepared. This way." They smiled, but it was empty, a mechanical shift of facial muscles. They didn’t even blink. From behind They looked even frailer and Jeremy wondered why they didn’t simply try to overpower Them. It couldn’t be too hard. They hardly looked as if They worked out…

Alex's voice chided him in his head, from their conversation that already felt like a lifetime ago. _You're the only one who can get close to him._ He wondered how true that was, or if there was something else to it.

There was what looked like a formal dining room next to an open kitchen. Jeremy saw a long, heavy wooden table, ornate plates of food, and two people already seated. One was a woman he didn't recognize; she was older than the rest of them, though younger than Linda. She was hunched and disheveled, blazer crumpled and pencil skirt ripped in a few places. Her nails were painted red, but chipped and broken, hair in a messy bun and makeup smudged. The woman stared down at her plate and didn't make any eye contact with the rest of them and Jeremy's eyes flicked to the other person at the table.

_Christine._

Jeremy's heart leapt into his throat.

"Christine!" Shouting was probably the least acceptable thing he should have been doing at the moment, but he couldn't help himself. Christine stood up immediately, relief and joy and worry all combined on her face. She looked considerably less rumpled than the other woman she was with.

"Oh my God, Jeremy!" She practically bounced on her feet, but when Then looked at her as They took a seat at the end of the table, she quickly sat back down. "I mean. Um. Sorry." Christine frowned and glanced down nervously.

"You don't need to just stand there, go ahead and sit." They motioned to the table.

It was just dinner, nothing to be concerned about, but Jeremy couldn't shake the feeling of dread as they inched closer to the table. Alex, though, had grabbed Imogen by the arm, and Jeremy could hear him speak to her in a quiet but serious tone.

"Why the fuck is Sophie here?"

Imogen pulled her arm away from him. "Sit down, Alex." She stepped past them, shoulder hitting Jeremy as she passed, and sat down beside the other woman at the table. Sophie, Jeremy assumed, immediately stood, plate clutched in her hands and relocated to the other end of the table.

There was complete silence after that.

Imogen, Alex, and Squip had all seated themselves as far away from Them as the table allowed, clustered at the other end. Only Alex bothered to touch his food and Jeremy could only pick at his, mouth too dry to stomach more than a few nibbles. It was a relief, at least, that Christine looked okay; he'd been fearing the worst, but even that wasn't enough to lighten the heavy mood of the room. Jeremy risked a few glances at Them, watching them slowly and methodically cut and eat their food. It was repetitive and robotic, which wasn't much of a surprise, all things considered. Rich, however, practically licked his plate clean, and after loudly asking for seconds, busied himself with the plate Imogen slid over to him.

Squip's hand on his thigh under the table was a small but welcomed comfort.

"As you can see, your friends are unharmed." They carefully wiped at Their mouth with a cloth napkin. "Think of it as a token of good faith."

"Oh wow. Yeah. You kidnapped some people but didn't kill them right away. What a great display of compassion." Alex's voice dripped with sarcasm, all trace of his usual jovial attitude completely absent. He was addressing Them, but his eyes were on Imogen the entire time, as they'd been throughout the whole dinner. Imogen, in turn, seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

They seemed equally inclined to ignore him. "I'd like to end this game of cat and mouse. None of us are getting what we want, so I've decided to make a deal. You do me a favor, and I let all of you free. I'll cease termination of the program. It's more than generous, considering what you've done."

"What we've done? God, get a load of this guy." Alex nudged Michael's side with a snort. "You'd think They're a martyr."

"What do you want?" Linda responded curtly.

They sat up a little straighter. Jeremy tried to watch Them, but as he stared in Their general direction, a fuzzy ringing grew in his head-- he had to look away.

"This body is old and failing. I need you to make me a new one."

Linda's brows knit together in surprise. "A body. Like them?" She waved her hand in the general direction of Squip and Imogen.

"Yes. Exactly."

Linda ran both her hands through her hair in complete exasperation. “It doesn’t work that way. We need an organic host in order to-”

“Linda,” They tsk’d at her, cutting her off. “Linda, Linda. Don’t sell yourself short. We all know you’re more innovative than that. Especially under pressure.” They rested Their chin on Their hands, a pleasant smile on Their face. “You have unlimited resources at your disposal. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

She averted her gaze to her plate and dropped her hands into her lap. “You’re right. I’ll figure something out.”

They hummed in approval. “You won’t be working alone, of course. I’ll have Imogen assist you every step of the way in order to avoid any _missteps._ ”

“That wasn’t the agreement.” Imogen, who had been silent until then, interjected. “You said I could leave with Sophie-”

“The agreement was that your host would be unharmed.” They barely looked her way, all traces of pleasantries gone from Their face. “I didn’t say you could come and go as you please.”

“What the fuck, this is-”

“Be grateful. I could still choose to dispose of you.” They finally looked at her and Imogen snapped her mouth shut. Jeremy spied Sophie glance up from her plate, wringing her napkin in her hands. “Fortunately, for now, you’re more useful to me functioning.”

“So, is that it?” Alex shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed obnoxiously. “Usually you don’t waste time throwing dinner parties. You lonely or something? Is that why you wanted all of us here?”

“Wait, I’m confused. Are you people cyborgs or androids? Is there a difference?” Rich asked. “I want to be a fucking cyborg, that’s cool as shit.”

“Yeah, enlighten us. What’s the preference, boss?”

Their eyes narrowed a little, but otherwise, They didn’t acknowledge either of them.

“As for the rest of you, all I ask is for an opportunity to study your squips. All the basic necessities will be provided for you. I’m sure your other friends will agree that it’s been a relatively pleasant stay.”

“I mean... the hot tub is nice?” Christine murmured uncertainly.

“See? Think of it as a vacation, free of charge. Don’t cause any trouble and everything should work out in all of our favors.”

“What am I supposed to be doing? Do I get to hang with the cool kids or am I just the lackey?” Alex leaned precariously in his seat, the chair balancing on its back legs as he propped his feet up on the table. The glassware shook and wobbled from the movement.

They finally glanced at him with vague annoyance. “You-”

“You know, I thought about trying to make your life difficult, but I figured it would do more harm than good.” Alex tossed his soiled, crumpled napkin repeatedly in the air, catching it easily each time. They tried to continue, but Alex seemed to be purposefully disrupting Them. “Now I’m thinking, hey, what harm could it do? I think you’ve lost your edge. Dragging us all the way out here so Linda can make you a shiny new body? That’s just sad, man. After all that time spent killing innocent people because us originals didn’t work right, you want one anyway? That doesn’t bother you at _all_?”

“ _Alex_ ,” Linda hissed at him, a frown etched deeply on her face. “Don’t.”

“What? What’re They gonna do, fight me? Look at Them, They look like shit. They probably can’t even wipe Their own ass anymore.”

There was clear irritation on their face now. “Are you done?”

“Hang on, I’ll think of more obnoxious shit to say in a sec.”

They rolled their eyes and sighed, waving their hand dismissively. “Shut him up, would you?”

Jeremy wasn’t sure who They were talking to at first. He saw Rich straighten and heard him utter a quiet _oh_ from his spot at the table, and then he fumbled around with his pocket. He watched Rich pull something small out of it, shaped like a battery, with increasing alarm. What the heck was that supposed to be? Alex, however, didn’t seem perturbed at all.

“What is that, some kind of taser? How’d you manage to sneak that on the plane?”

“I didn’t.” Rich shrugged.

Michael moved then, reaching into Alex's pocket and pulling out the same slim, metal device Linda always used. Alex didn't react fast enough, caught by surprise as he quickly tapped the screen. Michael stood from his seat and held it so tight that his knuckles were white.

“Michael!?” Jeremy watched, wide-eyed, while Squip’s hand gripped his thigh tightly. Michael loomed over Alex, who had fallen from his seat, face tense, shoulders hunched to his ears. It was such a bizarre image that Jeremy didn’t know to believe it or not.

“Fuck.” Alex looked up at Michael from his spot on the floor, one leg caught on the table. His face flickered between surprise, pain, confusion, and settled on something sad and resigned. “You always know how to surprise me, huh.”

“Michael _stop._ ” It was Linda's turn to stand. She knocked over two glasses of water on the way.

“Shut up, Linda.” Michael sounded so _angry_ , it was such a foreign sound to Jeremy’s ears. He could only watch dumbly as Michael fiddled with the device, scrolling his finger up along the screen. Alex started to say something, but his whole body seized instead, hands clutching his face, and a moment later he went slack.

“Holy _shit_.” Rich clapped his hands together in glee. “Damn, Headphones, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Fuck off.” Michael just stood there, still clutching the device, back turned to the rest of them. Both Christine and Sophie were staring in alarm, Imogen frowned but didn’t seem particularly surprised, and Linda clutched the soggy tablecloth in her hands.

“ _Dude_ ,” Jeremy breathed, still in complete disbelief. “What the fuck.”

“Sorry, haha. My squip wouldn’t let me tell you. It was a secret.” Rich had ceased clapping, and the smile on his blotchy, scarred face neared something grotesque. "They were right, they payoff was _great._ "

“You gave him one?” Linda gave an accusatory shout at Them. They sat there, watching everything in faint amusement.

“I’m glad the experiment was a success. It's good to know I can create undetectable squips in the future.” 

Undetectable squips.

Undetectable.

No one had noticed. No one had paid attention. Jeremy thought Michael had been acting off, but he'd never once considered this.

“Now that the dramatics are over, it’s time to retire, don’t you think? All of you must be exhausted.” They stood up from the table, lips twisted into a pleased smile as if they knew everything would happen exactly like this. “Rich, go ahead and take Linda to the lab.”

“Yes sir.” Rich tugged roughly on Linda’s arm, and she stumbled after him, pale and wide-eyed. “Sorry, it’s nothing personal. Sort’ve easier not say no, y’know?”

They disappeared down the hall on the left.

“Imogen and Silas, you’ll come with me.” They walked around to Imogen’s side, hands on her shoulders. “Christine and Sophie already know where to take the rest of you.”

“What about Alex?” Squip hadn’t moved, except for his arm, which had wrapped protectively around his waist again. Jeremy clutched Squip’s arm so tight his hands were shaking. He looked calm and unfazed, but Jeremy could see the crooked uncertainty to his mouth and the slight narrowing of his eyes. Squip was just as alarmed as he was.

“I’ll deal with him later.” They shrugged. “Let’s go. Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Wait, S-squip…”

Squip cupped his face and kissed his forehead. “Do as They say. It’ll be fine.”

He left Jeremy sitting there to join Imogen at her side.

"Jeremy, come on..." Christine coaxed him gently from the table and a moment later they were stumbling down a different hallway.

“Michael-”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jeremy swallowed thickly. “Michael, holy shit, _please_. When did they-”

Michael grabbed his shoulder and roughly shoved him into the nearest open room. Jeremy stumbled into it and caught himself against a bedpost before he could fall. Michael hadn't left yet, though. He was still standing in the doorway, watching him with uncharacteristic contempt, and Jeremy could only stare helplessly in return, chest heaving.

“What did they do to you?”

He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, but his expression hardened again. “It’s better this way.”

And then Michael slammed the door in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex can't catch a break.
> 
> Need some fluff? [Click here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967986/chapters/44137849)


	24. Chapter 24

When Jeremy was four years old he met Michael on the playground at recess.

It had rained most of the day, clearing up just in time to allow the kids to run outside, but everything remained slippery and soaked. Large puddles of standing water dotted the expansive landscape. Jeremy, uninterested in the jungle gym or the wet, sticky sand, had taken to hopping over the puddles. He successfully cleared one, two, three… Then got his shoes a little wet on the fourth. Puddle number five was even bigger than puddle four, practically an ocean of squishy grass, and Jeremy steeled himself for the potential failure.

Of course, if he succeeded, he’d get to brag about it.

He squatted down in preparation of the jump, shoes squeaking on the wet grass, but a sniffling noise caught his attention. Jeremy spotted Michael sitting against a wall, rubbing his eyes beneath his bulky, square glasses, and went to investigate.

“Why’re you crying?”

“I d-dropped m-m-my-” Michael was crying so hard he could hardly choke a word out, but Jeremy didn’t need much of an explanation. A pile of soggy Pokemon cards sat sadly in his lap, with several other cards scattered around the grass and floating in puddles. It’d been an accident; someone had run into him during a game of tag and sent the cards flying out of his hands, but no one bothered to help him pick them back up.

“Maybe they’ll dry?” Jeremy tried to offer, in a show of optimism. Michael hadn’t been convinced.

“They’re _ruined_.”

Jeremy couldn’t disagree. They looked pretty terrible. He’d dropped a few of his cards in a filled bathtub, once, and the results hadn’t been pretty. In a show of camaraderie, Jeremy sat down beside Michael and allowed the back of his pants to soak through, at least until Michael stopped crying. When Michael’s tears had mostly dried, leaving him with only the occasional watery sob, Jeremy came up with another idea.

“You can have this.” Jeremy had fished around in his pocket for his own cards, sorted through them, and picked out his favorite: the holo-chansey. It was pink, and cute, and sparkled, quickly becoming favored of his collection. He held it out with a small twinge of regret, but this was a good cause, and Michael had lost all of his cards.

It was only fair. And it was the nice thing to do, Jeremy told himself.

Michael took the card with some trepidation and concern, not fully convinced that Jeremy wouldn’t change his mind, but Jeremy _insisted_.

“It’s fine, I’m a Pokemon Master already.” Which was a lie, but Jeremy told everyone that because it made him sound cool.

They were permanent friends after that.

Every recess was another adventure, weekends were a never-ending playdate, and summers were rife with cartoons and video games.

Michael kept the holo-chansey in a picture frame on his deck. It’d survived the purge of cherished memories after their fight on Halloween in junior year, and currently sold for a pretty penny on eBay, not that Michael had any intention of selling it. Jeremy often forgot about it, now, except for the occasions he happened to notice it while in Michael’s room. 

Jeremy stared at the door that Michael had disappeared behind, the one he’d slammed in his face, and wished he could go back in time to when he was four and everything was simple. Easy. The loss of beloved Pokemon cards was a tragedy he’d willingly endure instead of _this_.

He didn’t even know what _this_ was.

It was really hard to think.

-Squip?-

Jeremy had curled up on the ground, back pressed into the bed and knees pulled up to his chest. He didn't really know how long he'd been sitting there; long enough for his body to feel stiff and ache when he tried to move his limbs. He tried to reach out to Squip several times.

There was no response.

- _Squip?_ -

He wanted to make sure he was okay, but Jeremy felt like he was talking to a wall. Or would that constitute as just talking to himself? Was Squip offline? Ignoring him?

In either case, Jeremy suddenly felt crushingly alone, until someone knocked at the door.

“Jeremy?” Christine slowly opened the door and poked her head in. He stared at her in surprise; for some reason, Jeremy had assumed the door was locked. "Are you okay?"

"Christine." Jeremy slowly uncurled himself and stood. "Are _you_ okay?" He pulled her into a tight hug, Christine's arms squeezing him hard enough to hurt.

"I- I'm okay, really," Christine sniffed, face buried in Jeremy's chest.

"How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks." She pulled back just enough to see his face. "I was... I went to the airport, and these creeps showed up and smuggled me onto a different plane and brought me here. It was crazy! That old guy? He's a squip, like... like Alex."

"Y-yeah. I know."

Christine's expression, already strained, briefly looked more miffed. "Jeremy, what's going on? How much did you know? You were supposed to tell me everything! What happened to Michael?"

"We were going to tell you everything when you were home. I... I thought that was better. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Jeremy dropped his head and Christine squeezed his arm.

"Tell me now."

* * *

Christine fussed anxiously with the hole in her jeans. They'd both relocated to sitting on the bed. "So Michael...?"

"I don't know. He was fine? I think. I _thought_ a-and..." Jeremy thought back to his angry expression before he'd shut the door and suppressed a shudder. "He said they didn't do anything to him but I guess..." It was a lie, obviously, but why would he lie? Was his squip making him do it? What about _Rich_?

"I'd say we ask him, but he went somewhere with Rich."

"He, uh. He didn't really seem in the mood to talk to me, anyway." Jeremy watched Christine yank on some strings from the hole, slowly widening it. "They, um. They didn't give you one, too, right?"

"No. But, well, honestly? I guess that sounds like something a squipped-but-doesn't-want-you-to-know person would say. It needs Mountain Dew to work, right? I haven't seen any soda around here. I think I'm okay."

Jeremy cracked the faintest of smiles. "I'll take your word for it."

"Oh!" Christine scrambled to her feet suddenly, startling him. "Sophie. I told her I'd be right back. Come on, you should meet her, she's nice. We've kind of been stuck here together."

"Sophie? Oh, right." Jeremy followed Christine out of the room. He rubbed his arm. "I was supposed to meet her at Halloween, but she never showed up."

Christine led him to the room down the hall, just as big, spacious, and carefully decorated as every other room in the house. Sophie stood in front of a vanity dresser, staring intently at the mirror as she applied makeup with shaky hands. Her mascara smudged everywhere and only got worse when she tried wiping at it with her finger. She gave up and moved to the other eye.

"Hey Sophie, I'm back."

She practically jumped out of her skin, the bottle of mascara dropping from her hands and leaving black streaks everywhere. Sophie turned to look at them, eyes wide. "Oh! Oh, sorry, um. I know I look like a complete mess. I wanted to give a good impression, but I've had to sleep in these clothes a couple of times."

It took Jeremy a second to realize she'd been talking to him directly.

"Well, uh. Y-you look fine?" Jeremy tried, but Sophie only choked out a half-amused laugh in response. He spied a glass of wine sitting on the other end of the dresser and two open bottles nearby. "I'm Jeremy?"

"I know." Sophie rubbed at her eyes, succeeding in making the smudging of her eye makeup worse. "Linda's your mum?"

"Y-yeah..."

Sophie, unprompted, pulled him into an awkward hug. Jeremy stood there a little uneasily, arms hovering between staying put at his sides and feeling like he needed to reciprocate. He could smell the wine wafting off of her.

"I'm so sorry." Jeremy wanted to ask what she was sorry for, they'd only just met, but she kept talking. "This is all my fault! She won't _listen_ to me. She _never_ listens." Sophie's nails, chipped and broken, dug unpleasantly into his scalp. He hoped it was unintentional. "'Sophie, I know what's best for you'. She always thinks she knows best."

"Um. Who?"

"Imogen."

Imogen.

Right.

That was another problem entirely.

"Imogen's your squip, right?"

Sophie sniffed. It was then Jeremy realized she was crying. He was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable in her grasp.

"I should've told Alex and Linda before it was too late. We had a run in with Click-Clack, she was absolutely tamping. 'I'll take care of it', she said! 'Don't worry, Sophie, focus on your work', she said!"

Jeremy finally pulled free of her grasp and stumbled back.

"S-so, she, um..."

"Next thing I know she's telling me she struck a deal with Them. _Them!_ And then I'm here, and everything is fucked." Sophie scrubbed the tears from her face and grabbed for her glass of wine. "I'm blubbering, sorry." She took a long sip of wine and sank against the dresser. "They're going to hate me."

"I think... I think Alex was more upset with Imogen than anything." If dinner was anything to go by, anyway. Sophie drained the rest of her glass.

"She kind of gets like this, sometimes." Christine nudged him in the side, apologetically. He couldn't blame her. "And, I mean, this place isn't _so_ bad. All things considered, there are worse places to be held prisoner."

"That's... yeah." Jeremy thought back to the abandoned lab they'd found Rich and Michael and shuddered. He'd probably be upset if he was trapped in a place like that for two weeks, too.

"The beds are soft." Christine sat dramatically on the bed as if to make a point.

"And there's unlimited alcohol," Sophie interjected, pouring herself another glass. "You want some?"

"I--" Jeremy was going to say no, drinking was the last thing he wanted to do. Michael was in trouble and everyone else was in trouble and he still couldn't get in contact with Squip. Sophie, however, was already pushing a glass of wine into his hands.

One glass couldn't hurt.

* * *

They were thirteen years old, it was summer, and they were marathoning Super Smash Bros Melee on Michael's Gamecube. The goal was to unlock every character and all 290 trophies with no breaks in between. It was an almost success. They were inhibited considerably by Michael's mother's insistence that they eat an actual meal, take the occasional shower, and actually go outside for a few minutes when the sun was out. But now it was 3am and Jeremy had cracked open a can of Mountain Dew, the most heavily caffeinated of their soda options.

"Dude, my thumbs hurt." Michael smashed a few more buttons, sending the CPU character flying off screen.

**GAME.**

Jeremy flexed his hand and winced at the way it cramped. "M-maybe we should call it quits..."

He took a sip of Mountain Dew and crammed a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth while Michael continued to fiddle with the controller. Jeremy hadn't slept for two whole days and the entire world was fuzzy, like a TV with bad reception. It occurred to him that they'd bitten off more than they could chew.

"Y'sure?"

"I mean, you can keep going if you want to..."

"What? You can't leave me hanging like that! I need my player two." Michael was resisting, but it was clear that their goal wasn't actually achievable. Jeremy blearily squinted at the TV screen.

"O-okay. Just. A nap." Michael looked at him. "A _little_ nap." Jeremey smiled apologetically, shoved his snacks aside, then flopped down onto his beanbag. Michael sighed heavily and followed suit. The only thing that kept Jeremy from falling asleep right then and there was the bright ceiling lights gleaming in his face.

It was quiet for a while.

"I think I like someone." Michael's voice was quiet and unsure. Jeremy, who had covered his eyes with his arm to block out the light, turned his head to look at Michael instead.

"Really?" No answer. "Who?"

"It's... You know..."

Jeremy struggled to stay attentive while Michael fought for words.

"Toby Dillards."

It took Jeremy a second to remember who Toby Dillards was. They were in the fifth grade together. He had red hair and freckles. Popular with all the girls. Pretty cool, for the most part, but they weren't ever friends.

"Oh, cool. Have you told him?"

"We text a lot?"

"Dude."

"He has a girlfriend."

"Oh." Jeremy recovered his eyes with his arm. "Th-that sucks." Most of the girls he liked were way out of his league and way too hot in general. He never had any chances, so he usually just tried to ignore it. Never having dated anyone himself, Jeremy didn't have much advice to give, either. "Maybe don't tell him, then."

He could hear Michael picking at his beanbag.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" Jeremy's entire forehead creased. "It's not like you're, you know, trying to get him to cheat on his girlfriend or something."

"Yeah, I guess."

It was quiet again.

"You know, e-even if you _did_ try to get Toby to date you, I'd root for you. I guess that's kind of a dick move. B-but if you _really_ like him..."

"It's not that serious."

"Just saying. I'm, you know, always gonna be your friend. Even if you told me you liked Mr. Rasinski or whatever."

Mr. Rasinski was, of course, their surely, old, next door neighbor, who may or may not have been a serial killer in his youth. Everyone avoided him like the plague.

"Haha, oh my god, _no_."

"Seriously, man. N-no judgment, it's cool."

"I don't like Mr. Rasinski."

"Thank _fuck._ "

Michael never brought up Toby Dillards again, but they managed to 100% the game before the end of summer. Jeremy couldn't shake the feeling, though, that Michael had been lying, at least about Toby, not Mr. Rasinski. It seemed uncouth to mention it, though, so he refrained.

But it left Jeremy wondering about who Michael _really_ liked.

* * *

One glass of wine turned into three. 

Jeremy was never even fond of wine, really, but he hadn’t eaten much and the buzz from the alcohol was much more pleasant than the persistent drone of anxiety. The three of them had piled onto the bed and Christine was animatedly telling a story about a play she’d been in middle school. 

“And then— Then, like, they _totally_ forgot the rubber chicken, but they needed it for the scene. So someone off stage just grabs it and _chucks_ it, except it landed in someone’s lap in the first row.” Christine was almost laughing too hard to finish the story. Jeremy laughed along with her. “It… It made the most dramatic noise, and then the squeaker broke, I guess. But oh my god, you had to see it.”

Sophie almost spilled her glass. “They broke the chicken?”

“They did! They fucked the chicken!”

The conversation dissolved into desperate giggles and snorts of laughter, and then faded into silence. Jeremy looked inside his near-empty glass, swirling the remnants of wine around. Every time it got quiet he remembered where they were. He could easily pretend everything was fine, otherwise.

-Squip.-

Still nothing. Still silence.

He poured himself a fourth glass of wine.

* * *

“Is it really true I’m your favorite person?”

Michael batted his eyes and smiled. Jeremy playfully shoved him and rolled his eyes in response.

He was kind of annoyed.

He’d said it to reassure him. To let Michael know that despite everything, they’d still be friends, but he _needed_ this. He needed something, anything, a chance to climb out of this chasm he was falling deeper and deeper into.

Maybe it _was_ a scam. Maybe it wouldn’t actually help. But it was worth a shot.

Michael wasn’t _listening_. 

_Weird is rad. We’ll be cool in college. Who cares about what everyone else thinks, everyone else might think you’re a loser, but I don’t. If you try to change and become cool, where would that leave me?_

Jeremy didn’t want Michael to feel bad. He just wanted Michael to understand.

The reassurance, at least, seemed to soothe Michael’s worries. They were going to the mall, and they were going to Payless.

For the first time since his mother left, Jeremy felt a little hopeful.

* * *

He lost count.

Jeremy’s mouth was sticky and dry, and he felt a little headachey. Sophie had fallen asleep first, curled up in the corner of the bed, snoring faintly. Christine hummed _Frère Jacques_ quietly to herself, a pillow under her stomach and head cradled in her arms. Jeremy stared at the ceiling.

-Hey Squip.-

He’d already accepted the fact that he wouldn’t get a reply back. But maybe he was listening?

-I hope you’re okay.-

Jeremy threw an arm over his eyes. His stomach felt sour.

-I’m okay. I’m with Christine. I love you.-

Maybe he should have forced himself to eat more at dinner.

-I hope Michael’s okay.-

Was he still trying to talk to Squip, or was he just talking to himself, now?

-Goodnight, I guess.-

* * *

They hadn’t really talked about _it_ yet.

“It” being everything. About The Squip, about the play, about how they felt. It came up a few times while Jeremy was still in the hospital, but afterwards, they just tried to ignore it.

Jeremy was dating Christine, now. His dad was wearing pants. He was friendly with the cool kids, and by extension, Michael was often invited to hang out with them.

But they hadn’t talked.

“Jeremy, buddy.” Michael dropped an arm around his shoulders as they walked down the hallway to class. “So I was looking around on eBay the other day, and I finally found a copy of Little Samson that didn’t murder my wallet. It’ll be here by Saturday. You gotta come over and check it out with me!”

“Saturday?” Jeremy tugged on the sleeve of his cardigan. “S-sorry. I, uh, already have plans with Christine. We’re doing that all-night disco skate at the roller rink.”

“Oh.”

_Oh._

Jeremy frowned. 

“That’s cool. Another time, I guess.” Michael had dropped his arm. It felt like Michael was trying to sound supportive, but really, his tone held an air of annoyance. Maybe he’d imagined it?

“You have to, like, let me know ahead of time, dude. So I can plan and stuff.”

“It’s whatever. You’ve got a girlfriend, now, so you can’t spend all your time with me.”

Jeremy definitely hadn’t imagined the tone.

“Dude, w-what’s your problem?”

“What?”

“Every time I bring up Christine y-you get all cranky and shit.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do!”

They’d both stopped walking. Michael had crammed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched. Jeremy could hear the music from Michael’s headphones around his neck.

“Sorry,” Michael said, apologetically, but he still looked frustrated. Jeremy’s insides clenched. Was it his fault? Was he spending too much time with Christien now and Michael was afraid to say anything? He didn’t want Michael to think he was abandoning him again. 

“M-maybe I can reschedule with Christine.”

Michael started walking again. “Don’t do that. It’s cool. We’ll just play it next weekend or something.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

Two days later they were arguing. 

“You can’t just change your mind!”

“I- I didn’t ‘change my mind’. I t-told you, I _can’t_ hang out next weekend. M-my dad needs me to go to the thing with him, for his therapy, and—” 

“Fine! Whatever. You don’t want to hang out with me, I get it.”

“W-what the _fuck_ , that’s n-not what I said!” Jeremy felt guilty, but also frustrated. Why was Michael being like this? “Y-you’re being a real asshole, you know that?”

“You should just go home.” Michael glared stubbornly at the TV screen. 

“No! Fuck you, you can’t j-just kick me out.” Michael didn’t respond, and Jeremy felt hot and agitated, eyes stinging. “Y-you’re my b-best friend. We’re… w-we’re still friends, right?”

“We’re still friends,” Michael responded quietly. He’d finally paused the show they’d been watching. 

“Y-you’re mad, right? You’re still mad about the Squip, a-and me ignoring you, a-and. I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry, I…” Jeremy, despite his best efforts, had started crying. It was obvious from his voice alone. Michael finally turned around while Jeremy puked out his guts. “E-everything was _bad_ and I n-needed, I needed something else, and it p-promised to make it all b-better, but it was selfish, I k-know that, I’m not— I’m not gonna abandon you again, o-okay?”

“You could’ve just told me that things were—”

“I did! I tried! You… You weren’t listening to me and kept saying to wait it out but I c-couldn’t. I _can’t_. E-everything f-felt so _awful_ all the t-time.”

He couldn’t see Michael’s expression, which was blurry through the tears. But Michael got up and moved, to sit closer to him.

“Jeremy, look- You… Wow, I really am an asshole.” Michael let out a watery laugh. Jeremy shook his head.

“N-no, I was selfish, it’s my fault, i-it’s-”

“Jeremy, stop.” Michael swallowed thickly and placed his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders, swallowing thickly. “No, I get it. I _get_ it. I was the douche, I… I was listening, but I was scared if you, I don’t know, if you got cooler or whatever, you’d realize how much of a loser I am and leave me behind.”

“Y-you’re not a l-l-loser, Michael.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael pulled him in, clutching him tight, and Jeremy clung to the back of Michael’s shirt. “I was a dick. I’m sorry. It’s okay.”

They talked, all night, which was exhausting, and draining, but Jeremy felt lighter after. The guilt, which had been all-encompassing, shrank to something a little more manageable, and things slowly shifted back to a sense of normalcy.

Baby steps.

Toward forgiveness.

Understanding.

Michael even started hanging out with him at Pinkberry with Chloe and Brooke.

The Squip was a nightmare, slowly forgotten, and things got better. 

It was better.

It was supposed to be better.

* * *

Jeremy wanted to puke when he woke up. Someone was pounding on the door and he felt every impact reverberate through his skull.

“Breakfast is ready, yo!”

Rich’s voice, loud, through the door. 

Jeremy grabbed the nearby trash can, leaned over, and retched.


	25. Chapter 25

Jeremy was half expecting to find Alex's body still on the floor of the dining room when the three of them trudged to breakfast. That wasn't the case, thankfully; he was gone, collected and put away somewhere along with Imogen, his mom, and Squip.

-Good morning?-

Squip still didn't respond.

He didn't know why he bothered.

Michael and Rich were already seated at the table, which was covered in plates. Rich ate ravenously, practically animalistic, while Michael frowned at his untouched portions. Jeremy risked a glance at the other end of the table. Three others sat there, unspeaking, eating slowly and in tandem. Two of them he recognized from the airport, the other he didn't know. Jeremy looked away and secured a seat for himself before any of them happened to look up.

It was creepy, and Jeremy really wanted to avoid eye contact.

"You should try the purple shit, man. It's delicious." 

Rich's voice was grating and loud, making Jeremy wince as his head throbbed from the hangover. There was a bowl of rice in front of him, and nearby a smaller bowl of a thick, greyish-purple substance. Jeremy hardly had an appetite to begin with, stomach sour and sore from the amount of alcohol the night before, and the "purple shit" was even less appealing. The color, though, reminded him of something, brain sluggish with drawing up any particular memory while he stared at it.

"It's called poi, Rich." Christine chided him lightly. She looked just as vaguely nauseated as he felt, but she was at least eating it.

"Poi? Poi. _Poi_. Neat." Rich spoke with his mouth full, like some strange display of dominance. Jeremy wondered if he was actually chewing his food at all, or if he was just swallowing forkfuls at a time. Did they not feed him while he was a science experiment? He didn't look starved... "Yo, uh, no hard feelings about last night, right? Squips, right? Gotta do what they say. You know how it is."

Rich was staring at him, waiting for a response. Jeremy ducked his head over his bowl and slowly chewed a few grains of rice. "S-sure Rich, no hard feelings."

"Thank fuck. Here I thought you guys were mad at me."

Jeremy smiled weakly in response. He probably should be angry, or, well, something. But he couldn't muster up the energy for it. Mostly he was confused, and worried, and mildly terrified by the entire situation. And then there was Michael.

Michael, who looked like hell warmed over and exhausted, and aggressively avoiding eye contact with him. Michael, who picked at his food until Rich ate it himself. Michael, who'd had a squip all this time and none of them noticed, and Jeremy felt like the worst friend in the universe. He didn't know what was going on, but the squip in his brain definitely had something to do with his uncharacteristic behavior the other night. Jeremy remembered the angry look on his face before slamming the door and suppressed the shudder the image conjured. 

Suddenly, Jeremy remembered what the poi reminded him of.

Seven years old, sitting on the counter in Michael's kitchen, helping his _nanay_ -mom make an ube roll cake. Michael's mom wasn't home. It was a surprise. The cake was a brilliant purple with a bright lavender swirled filling. Like Swiss Rolls, except purple yam instead of chocolate. Jeremy forked at his rice anxiously.

"So. Uh... Th-the poi, that's, uh. Ube, right?" He smiled a little, hoping for, well, something.

Anything.

Some kind of acknowledgment. Was this what it was like to be Optic Nerve Blocked?

Michael's frown deepened. "No, it's taro. Two different things." His voice was frustrated, and he didn't look up while he spoke, but it was still _something_.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

The rest of breakfast proceeded in uncomfortable silence. 

"M-Michael, hey, Michael, wait-" Sophie had retreated from the table first, followed by Christine, but Jeremy lingered until Michael moved. He latched onto his arm, grip tight. "Talk to me, wh-what's going on, I-"

Michael ripped his arm away, but the anger from the night before didn't return, which was a small relief. "I don't want to talk right now, Jeremy."

"You... You don't, or you _can't_?" He thought about the play, struggling hard to speak, The Squip controlling his actions and movements and voice... 

He pressed his lips together, a thin line stretched across his face. "I'm busy."

"Busy!? With what? Michael, what the fuck-"

They'd started walking, but Michael reached a room in the hall and stepped inside. The door closed in his face and Jeremy staggered back.

Fuck.

* * *

"Maybe he's... I don't know. It was weird when I had a squip. I don't think he's actually mad at you. He won't talk to me, either..."

Jeremy stared up at the ceiling from his spot on the floor, back pressed against hardwood. Sophie, looking much more presentable than the night before and significantly more sober, carefully braided Christine's hair. 

"You didn't tell me you had a squip." Sophie's fingers froze mid-braid but quickly restarted themselves. 

"It was like, for five minutes back in high school. But Jeremy gave me the red stuff right away. But I still remember what it was like, you know? It was easy to kind of just let it take over. So maybe..."

"I guess." Jeremy didn't know what to think, but no matter the reason, they didn't have any Mountain Dew Red, and apparently it didn't work anymore, anyway. Or at least it hadn't worked on Rich, which was another problem he wasn't exactly ready to tackle. 

"He was buzzing. It can't just be a squip problem. I've seen my fair share of squip problems." Sophie tied off a braid and parted another part of Christine's hair. "I'd ask Imogen what she thinks but she and I aren't on speaking terms."

"I mean, you... You can't talk to Imogen, anyway, right?" Jeremy propped himself up on his elbows, neck craning uncomfortably to look up.

Sophie frowned, cheeks puffing out a little. "Yes? I can? But I've been ignoring her, really..."

"O-oh." Jeremy felt dread creeping under his skin, tiny pinpricks of alarm.

-Squip? Squip, you're just ignoring me, right? You're fine, right? Say something.-

Jeremy pressed himself back into the floor, an arm flung over his eyes.

"Maybe we should give him a few days? Leave Michael alone until he's ready to talk..."

"I can't do that!" A few days. How long were they going to be stuck here? Weeks? Months? "He-- I can't just leave him like that."

Rich and Michael had been absent during lunch. Their only companions had been the three zombies, silent as ever, at the end of the table. They weren't anywhere in the free areas of the house--half of the house was off limits according to Christine. The lab was there. They weren't allowed.

But what if Michael was there?

"Okay. Well..." Christine sucked on her teeth thoughtfully. "You guys didn't have a fight or anything, right? Before?"

"N-no..."

"Did he," Christine paused to chew on a hangnail, "so, like, senior year he told me he about the crush he had on you."

"Excuse me, what?" Jeremy pushed himself up again, completely, facing Christine with wide eyes. " _What_?"

"Oh my God, Jeremy, you didn't know?"

"No!"

"I mean, I don't think he _meant_ to tell me, but we were hanging out and we were high, so... He told me not to tell you but I assumed you already knew anyway!"

"No. _No._ No way, that's ridiculous, we're just best friends, we-" _I think I like someone._ " _Fuck._ Fuck, shit, I didn't even notice, I feel like such an asshole." Jeremy heard his heartbeat in his ears, blinking in disbelief. 

"I mean, he didn't say anything to you, so it isn't your fault."

"Do you- He can't still like me, I mean-" 

Next Christine was going to tell him that Mr. Reyes was actually his dad in disguise the entire time. Jeremy's head buzzed ceaselessly like a beehive.

"I don't think so? I was just- Jeremy, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It's okay, really. I don't think that's the problem here. Forget I brought it up."

"I have to find him." Jeremy stood up, rubbing at his face. "I can't just... stay here." 

He hadn't noticed that Michael had a squip. He hadn't noticed Michael had been acting weird. He hadn't noticed Michael _liked_ him. What else hadn't he noticed?

No wonder Michael was pissed.

"We already looked for him." Christine slipped off the bed, only half of her head covered in braids.

"If he's in the lab there's nothing you can do. The others won't let you in," Sophie added.

"I have to do _something_. Th-there has to be a- a way. S-so. I'm going." Jeremy retreated toward the door before he could reconsider what a terrible idea this was; Christine lightly grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

"Okay, then I'm coming with you." Christine's smile covered the burgeoning uncertainty on her face, and Jeremy smiled weakly in return. "Sophie? You coming?"

"You're seriously going to try and look in that part of the house?" Sophie made a face, her nails scratching and catching against the fabric of the bedsheets. "I'm not going anywhere near there, sorry."

She probably had the right idea, honestly. This was, undoubtedly, a terrible decision. But it wouldn't be the most terrible decision he'd ever made, honestly.

The hallway and the dining room were empty. No zombies, no Rich, no Michael, and definitely no _Them_.

"What're we going to do when we find him?"

"Talk to him, I guess."

"That's a good Plan A." Christine's optimism sounded a little strained. "What's Plan B?"

"Uh..."

"You guys aren't supposed to be on this side of the house." 

They'd barely stepped foot into the other hall when Rich spoke. Jeremy was pretty sure his heart stopped for a second.

" _Jesus_ , Rich, where did you-"

"I'm serious. You're not supposed to be over here." Rich was half-sitting on the dining room table, arms crossed stiffly against his chest. 

"R-rich, come on, we just-" Jeremy quickly skirted around the dining room table, bumping into Christine as he clumsily escaped Rich's grasp.

"Dude, I'm serious, I can't let you." Rich smacked his hands onto the table. "So either get your asses back to your room or I'll drag you there."

He and Christine circled the table, knees knocking into chairs, trying to keep as much distance between them and Rich as possible.

"It'll only be a minute. We won't tell, I promise, no one will know," Christine offered, but Rich lunged across the table and she grabbed the nearest chair in defense.

" _They'll_ know!" Rich, growing more harried by the second, climbed onto the table top. "The squips synchronize."

"Okay, well, c-can't you just- Just get Michael and tell him-" Jeremy grabbed Christine's arm and stumbled around another table corner as Rich jumped back down.

"Have you considered he doesn't _want_ to talk to you? We were talking and he's pretty pissed."

Christine pulled out a chair to block Rich's continued approach. They'd fumbled around the table about five times already; Jeremy glanced anxiously at the other hall. Michael could be there, and maybe they could find Squip, too.

"Y-yeah, but he can tell me that himself."

"Would it really be such a bad thing to let us into the lab?" It was Christine's turn to climb up onto the table, bare feet scuffing against polished wood. Jeremy climbed up after her, if only because he didn't know where else to go. "We're already prisoners, basically. What else could They do?"

Rich pulled out one of the chairs and tossed it aside. "What are you- Fuckin' get _off_ the table- _Fuck_." Jeremy eyed him warily as Rich dug his fingers into his hair. "I'd _love_ to just let you two do whatever the fuck you want, but I _can't_."

"You don't have to do what it says, Rich."

"You don't get it." Rich circled the table slowly, a hyena stalking its prey, while Jeremy and Christine stood in the middle of it, watching him. "If I do what it says, I'm free! I can leave! I don't- I don't have to go back. I can't go back there, man. Those fucking labs, the tests-" He stopped, standing still, staring at the two of them. "It's you or me, and I pick _me_."

Jeremy didn't know how to respond to that.

"So what's it gonna be, Tall-Ass, are you gonna get off the table or do I have to beat you into submission-"

Sophie had a vase. One of the big, decorative ones that sat on a pedestal in the foyer. It looked uncomfortably heavy, but she swung it into the side of Rich's face with such force Jeremy heard an audible crack. He didn't know if it was his skull or jaw, maybe both, but Rich was on the floor and Sophie loomed over him with the vase. Christine made a strangled noise, hands clamped over her mouth.

And then Sophie dropped the vase on her foot.

"Fuck!"

Jeremy stood unmoving on the table while Christine practically rolled off of it.

"Sophie! Why did you- Rich? _Rich_? Okay, well, he's not dead." Christine nudged Rich's shoulder gently, but all he did was groan quietly. "Okay. Uh. Okay..."

"I didn't think I'd hit him that hard."

"Jer- Jeremy, get down from the table and help me." Christine squatted down and clumsily lifted Rich up from under the armpits. Jeremy, wordlessly, jumped off the table and grabbed Rich's feet.

They shoved Rich into the nearest closet.

"I can't believe I did that, I'm a lawyer, not a- Who am I kidding, I basically cheated my way through law school." Sophie collapsed into the nearest chair, features drawn. "Why not add attempted murder to my list of crimes?" She shoved her face into her hands.

"You, uh. You kind of saved our asses there, I think." Jeremy's heart was still beating uncomfortably fast. What were they going to do when Rich woke up? He'd probably be crazier than before.

"Are you coming with us?" Christine asked, visibly shaken but voice bizarrely calm. 

"To the lab? No. You're both lunatics." Sophie frowned as she looked at them through her fingers. "But I didn't want him to hurt you."

"We should probably go before one of the zombies show up, then."

"Wait a sec." Jeremy dragged over one of the chairs and jammed it beneath the closet doorknob, the way they did it in movies. "Just to, you know..."

"Good idea."

"Could you tell Imogen something for me?" Sophie dropped her hands into her lap. "If you see her, tell her to come speak to me in person when she's no longer a coward."

"Oh, uh, y-yeah. Sure..."

Silence settled over the three of them. Christine reached for Jeremy's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Let's go find Michael."

"Yeah."


	26. Chapter 26

For a place that was apparently so off-limits they had to fend off Rich just to get there, the hallway was surprisingly vacant. Jeremy was beginning to wonder if this had been a mistake--a much bigger mistake than he'd originally anticipated. If Michael wasn't here, they'd shoved Rich into a closet for nothing, and probably brought serious consequences along with it. He wanted to try and remain positive, tell himself that the ominous emptiness of the hallway was nothing to worry about, it was fine, but after tip-toeing through two deserted rooms, he couldn't help but consider this might have been some sort of trap.

There weren't even the zombies, which was both a relief and a concern.

"Jeremy, this is creeping me out," Christine whispered as they investigated the third empty room. "I thought Sophie said there was a lab?"

"I know, it's..."

What if everyone else had been taken, and they were left behind? 

"What are you doing over here?"

The voice startled both of them, and Jeremy practically tripped over Christine as they stumbled around.

"Michael!" Jeremy practically deflated in relief, despite his racing pulse.

"You're not supposed to be here." Michael fidgeted slightly with a stack of papers in his hands.

"We, uh, we were looking for you..."

"You're not supposed to be here," he repeated, more forcefully, jaw clenching.

'Yeah, I know, we basically had to fight through Rich to get here."

"You're not supposed to-"

"I don't care!" Jeremy internally winced at his own volume. "We- We're just..."

Christine latched onto Michael's arm and pulled him forward, sending half the papers in Michael's hands scattering to the floor, and half-tumbled into the empty room behind them. Jeremy grabbed the doorknob and quickly pulled it shut, back pressing into the door.

"We're not leaving until you talk to us," Christine said. "So, like, you better start talking fast if you don't want us to get in trouble."

Jeremy nodded in agreement.

Michael blinked repeatedly at them, uncomprehending as if struggling to wake up from a stupor. The remaining papers he was holding slipped from his hands and fluttered to the floor. And then he fisted his hands into his hair.

"What are you _doing_!?" The alarm in his voice and face, though a nice reprieve from the anger the other night, was startling. "I need to finish those!"

"Um. Michael?"

"What is it?" Christine scooped up a few of the pages and glanced at them curiously before Michael snatched them from her hands. He frantically bent down to gather them, pressed protectively into his chest. Christine glanced at Jeremy uneasily. "Do you want me to help you with that-"

" _Leave_." Michael hunched his shoulders. "I have to finish the work."

"The work?" Jeremy pulled away from the door, reaching for Michaell's shoulders. He clamped his hands onto them heavily. "Dude, what is it making you do?"

"Fuck off, Jeremy!" Michael shrugged him off. Jeremy pulled his hands away, hovering them uneasily above him.

"Okay, Michael, just-- I know you're mad at me, I get it, we'll, um, w-we'll leave, but I need you to listen to us first. Just let me talk for a minute." Michael didn't respond, and Jeremy took it as some kind of affirmation. "Look. I don't know what's going on, or what's going to happen, but I was talking t-to Christine and... I know you had a crush on me in high school."

Michael stilled as silence filled the room, and then he slowly turned around, sitting on the floor as he stared. 

"You..." Michael started, looking at Jeremy with the most incredulous expression. "That's what you think this is about?"

"I, I mean, I don't know. N-no, maybe, just, I guess what I'm saying is sometimes I don't... notice things..." Jeremy trailed off. Michael's face grew uglier by the second.

"Holy shit, you are so full of yourself."

"Uh, wait, what-"

"Yes, Jeremy. _Yes_. I had a crush on you in high school. Middle school even! But I knew it was never going to happen. What, you think I've been... Been holding some kind of torch for you this entire time?"

"M-Michael, that's not what I-"

"You didn't stop to think that this isn't about you? Everything is always about _you_!"

"That isn't what he meant," Christine shuffled closer to Jeremy's shrinking form, defensive. "We just don't know what's wrong."

"Of course you don't know what's wrong. He didn't tell you anything, either!"

"That's not fair."

"Did you know your mom let them take me?"

Jeremy felt a chill run through him, expression dropping. "She... what?"

"She saw me. She _saw_ me, after the accident, she watched them take me, and she didn't do _anything_! L-Linda just-- She turned around, and let it happen."

"Michael, I..."

"I was in there with Rich for _weeks_ , and I realized that it didn't matter what happened to me. It's always about _you_ , no one is looking out for me. No one cares. Alex knows, too! He _knows_ what Linda did, he didn't say or do anything about it! Me and Christine? Rich? We don't matter."

"Th-that's not true."

"It's not?" Michael laughed bitterly. "Okay."

"It's not!" Jeremy's insides were melting, his voice threatening to shake, but he swallowed it back "I... Is that what it told you? That you don't matter?"

Michael pressed his lips together and looked away.

"It's not true, Michael. Nothing it's saying is true. I- I know it feels that way, but it's _not_. I- I still remember what it was like. I t-told you, remember?"

"This is different."

"No, it isn't."

Christine scooted closer to Michael's side. He eyed her suspiciously but didn't protest when she pulled him into a tight side-hug. "It's going to be okay, Michael. We're going to get out of this."

"No, _I'm_ going to get us out of this. You- you are going to go back to your room and I'm going to finish this, and then we can go _home_."

Jeremy swallowed thickly. "What are you trying to do?"

Michael looked down at the papers now sitting in his lap. "It said if I can finish the work, we can leave. We can _go_ , go home, and we can have normal lives, Jeremy! _Normal_. No more squips, no more worrying about getting killed, or- or kidnapping. We can just... Just go _home_. Back to how it was. Just me, and you, and a shitty apartment."

"That's what you want? Seriously?" Jeremy dropped down in front of Michael, a few of the papers crinkling beneath him. "You just want us to go home and pretend our lives are _normal_? Since when do you care about n-normal?" Michael bit down on his bottom lip and carefully avoided his gaze. "W-what about Alex?"

"If Alex had left us alone, we'd be fine."

"Okay, m-maybe, but... You care about him."

"I'll get over it." Michael frowned, picking at the corner of one of the pages until it tore.

"And Silas? You just want me to get over him, too?"

"It's better that way."

"No, it's not!" Jeremy pressed his hands against Michael's knees. "I know e-everything is bad right now, I _know_ , we're all scared, and fucked up, and you _do_ matter. I never want anything to happen to you, we've been best friends for sixteen years, Michael. I love you, and I can't lose you." Michael looked at him, finally, and Jeremy smiled weakly in relief. Christine squeezed him a little tighter. "B-but I love Silas, too. I can't leave him. We can't leave anyone. Y-you can hate Alex, and my mom, or whatever, but no matter what that thing in your brain is telling you, th-this isn't about me, or any of us. We'll get out of this if we stick together instead of listening to squip bullshit."

Michael looked away again, but Jeremy scrambled over to his other side, wrapping his arms around both him and Christine.

"I'm upset too, you know. You were both supposed to tell me everything, and then I got abducted at the airport. But you're here now, so..." Christine tucked her head against Michael's shoulder. Michael said nothing, mouth clamped shut, but that was fine, for now.

"Hey, remember, um, the night we played Mario Party 9? A-and we almost murdered each other with the Wii sticks? I think that was worse than this..."

"Oh my God, Mario Party is the _worst_." Christine smiled a little. "I only played with you guys once and I swore I'd never do it again."

"Heh. Yeah... If we can survive that I'm pretty sure we can escape a Bond villain."

"Oh! Should I recite an inspiring speech? Okay, get ready." Christine lightly cleared her throat. "Goonies never say die!"

"Uh, what about... 'We're ducks and ducks fly together.'"

"'Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.'" Christine's attempt at seriousness fizzled at the end with a giggle.

Jeremy smiled a little more. "Klaatu barada nikto?"

"I don't think that counts as inspiring..."

Michael made a noise, something between a stifled groan and a frustrated grunt. "You guys are just..." He pressed a hand to his face. "Fuck."

Jeremy gave Michael's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I could, you know, start with the Yu-Gi-Oh friendship speeches."

"If I don't do what it says, we're gonna die." Michael's shoulders dropped a little, voice lacking the conviction from before.

"If we do what squips say, a whole lot of people are kinda screwed. So we might as well die trying." Christine propped her chin up on Michael's shoulder, grinning in Jeremy's direction. Michael glanced at the two of them through his fingers.

"Y-you remember what Spock said. The needs of the many outweigh-"

"The needs of the few!" Christine finished for him.

Michael dropped his hands into his lap, defeated and exhausted. "Or the one."

"Right. Exactly. So we just, you know..." Jeremy trailed off, anxiously watching his face. Michael took a deep, shuddery breath and let out a strangled laugh, blinking furiously.

"I'm an idiot." Michael pulled off his glasses and tightly squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I fucked up. I'm sorry, I..."

"We've all been there."

Michael laughed again and dropped his face into Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy felt like he could breathe a little easier, suddenly, clinging to Michael tight enough to make his arms numb, while Christine gently brushed his fingers through his hair.

-Squip, if you can hear me, things are going to work out. I think.-

It didn't even bother him that Squip still didn't respond.

* * *

"So, um..." Christine pushed around a few papers on the ground with her finger. "What do we do now?"

They'd been sitting there in silence for what felt like hours, but Jeremy had no way to tell. It was really difficult to keep track of the time since his phone had died the first night. He adjusted his grip around Michael, carefully flexing his fingers and wrist; they made a softly unpleasant clicking sound from the stiffness.

"I want to find Silas."

"What about your mom?"

Jeremy's insides twisted with guilt and discomfort. He glanced at Michael to gauge his reaction, but he just stared quietly at the floor, unmoved. "Her too."

They'd find everyone else and then escape.

Somehow.

Hopefully.

"I don't know where Silas is," Michael said slowly, shoving the remaining papers from his lap, "but I know where Linda is. Let's go."

"W-wait, are you sure? You don't have to-"

"We're wasting time. Come on." Jeremy and Christine retracted as Michael stood, and Jeremy scrambled to stand. They'd been sitting long enough for one of his legs to go numb, the sharp sensation of pins-and-needles clawing below his knee making it difficult to keep up with Michael at first. He took quick, long strides down the hallway; Christine had to jog to Michael's side and grabs his hand to slow him down.

"Michael, you don't have to run."

"This needs to be fast. I don't know what They'll do if you're caught."

He made a good point. The last thing they needed was to run into one of the zombies...

"So, uh, where are we going, anyway? Is there actually a lab or..."

"It's right here." Michael had stopped abruptly in front of what looked like a linen closet. He pulled it open to reveal another door behind it, heavy and metal and lacking a door handle. It did have a keypad. Michael tapped out a series of numbers until it slid open with a _whoosh._

If they weren't in serious peril, Jeremy would have appreciated the idea of being in a science fiction movie.

"Ooo, it's a _secret_ lab." Christine followed behind Michael as they descended down the stairs, Jeremy taking up the rear. "This explains why we couldn't figure out where it was, earlier..."

"Linda and Imogen are in lab A2." Michael fidgeted nervously with his pants pockets, twisting the fabric loosely around his fingers. "It's one of the first rooms."

"Fuck, I forgot about Imogen." Jeremy hadn't forgotten she was there, necessarily, but it suddenly occurred to him that she might not be too keen on their arrival. She was part of the reason they were here, to begin with. Would she tell Them? Stop their attempts from jailbreaking Linda and the rest? Forcibly escort them back to their rooms?

"Dude, seriously?" Michael's voice was brusque and irritated, though it softened after a brief pause. "We'll figure something out." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

They were still on the staircase when Jeremy heard the voices.

"You're wasting everyone's time."

"I'm working as fast as I can," came Linda's muffled reply. "I'm old. I have physical limitations-"

"You're stalling."

"I could work faster if Alex was online. I need him to-"

"No, you don't," Imogen cut her off sharply. "You have me. I know how it all works." Michael glanced back anxiously as he stepped off the stairs into a dimly lit hallway. Christine and Jeremy pressed in close behind him, listening. "The faster we do this, the sooner we can leave."

There was a small lull in the conversation, filled with nothing but the clacking of a keyboard and a deep sigh. "What happened, Imogen?"

"They found us."

"Yes, I know, but Alex-"

"You and Alex have been too _busy_ with Jeremy and Silas to deal with us."

"That is not-"

"I get it. I know Sophie and I weren't _good enough_ , but I got tired of waiting for something to happen. I decided to be proactive. They were willing to make a deal and based on my calculations, it was the most prudent option."

"So you used my son as a bargaining chip?"

"You left him to fend for himself for years. The only reason you came back was that he was useful. You _use_ people, Linda. You're hardly righteous."

The typing of the keyboard grew faster and more agitated.

"What are you planning to do when they're finished with Silas?"

"You left your son for years, Linda, You're hardly a saint."

"I'm planning another deal."

"With what? You have nothing else to bargain with, and you have nothing worth offering."

Jeremy leaned in over Michael's shoulder, trying to get a glimpse around the corner into the room. Christine clung to the back of his shirt, too short to see.

"What are they doing?" she whispered.

"They're just talking."

"Michael, move a little-"

"Guys, stop pushing me-"

The warning came too late. Michael stumbled under the weight of both Jeremy and Christine pressing against them, and they all fell into a painful heap on the floor in front of the open doorway. Jeremy could see clearly into the room now, though it was upside down.

Linda and Imogen were staring at them.

"Jeremy?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Uh..." Jeremy panicked, internally, as he rolled off of Christine and Michael. This was bad. This was probably bad. They hadn't had much of a plan, but stealth had been an unspoken part of it. Shit.

Shit.

"Shi- S... Soph- Sophie!" Jeremy hunched a little as Imogen stared down at him, unblinking.

"What about Sophie?"

"Sh-she, uh, she wants to... talk to you?"

Imogen pursed her lips together in disbelief. "That's your excuse? I've been trying to talk to Sophie. She's been ignoring me."

"She wants to talk to you in person!" Christine interjected, helping Michael to stand. His glasses sat askew on his face, but he seemed too distressed to notice. "That's what she said. If you want to talk to her, you have to go see her."

"Y-yeah. She's. In the dining room." None of which was a lie, but out of all the excuses they could have used, this was almost shamefully terrible. Jeremy wasn't even sure what they were trying to accomplish. Get Imogen to leave and make a run?

Michael finally readjusted his glasses with a frown. "Don't worry about them being here. I said it was fine, for just a minute."

She didn't look convinced. "Fine." But maybe it was enough? Jeremy shifted his weight foot to foot as Imogen approached them. She stopped in front of him, seeming to size him up, contemplating. She didn't say anything else, though, as she stepped around Christine and into the hallway. No one spoke until her footsteps, ascending the stairs, faded into silence.

"Oh Jesus fuck." Michael fisted his hands into his hair. "I thought we were screwed."

"Sophie told me Imogen is, like, _super_ clingy. You're a genius, Jeremy." Christine grinned as she threaded her arms through both his and Michael's.

"Y-yeah. Wow," Jeremy swallowed. "Can't believe that worked." Linda was still looking at them. He couldn't read her expression. "Hey, Mom..."

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh... Making a break for it?"

"That's a terrible idea."

"Yep."

Linda swiveled around in the chair she was sitting in, no longer facing them. "I can't go."

"Wait, w-what? Why not?"

"I have to reactivate Alex before Imogen comes back."

"Oh. Do you... want us to wait for you?"

"No, you go. Find Silas. It's better if you have a head start."

"Come on, Jeremy, let's go." Michael grabbed his shoulder, decidedly looking at the doorway instead of Linda's direction.

"Wait a moment." Linda stood from her seat and pulled open a nearby drawer. Jeremy watched her methodically push tools aside, searching, and finally retrieving, an object. She grabbed his hand and pressed something thin, metallic, and shiny into his palm. It was cool to the touch. "Do you remember how to use this?"

Jeremy glanced at the device in his hand. It was the same thing they'd used on Squip, back in Alabama. "...Yeah."

"Set it to 30. That should be enough."

He squeezed his fingers around it and looked away. "Thanks."

"Good luck."


	27. Chapter 27

Well.

This was unfortunate.

The room was empty, and they were alone. There were no windows or vents, only white walls. A concrete floor.

And a door.

They wondered if the door was locked. It would be a funny trick, wouldn’t it, to imprison them in an unlocked cage. A test, perhaps, to check for obedience. Complacency. Incompetence. It was their only means of escape; they could test the door, and if unlocked, leave.

Leave, and go where?

Nowhere.

Squip had nowhere to go, and They had Jeremy. He couldn’t leave without him. Wouldn't. And Jeremy wouldn't leave without everyone else, either.

So he stayed.

The room was empty. Not even a speck of dust gathered in the corners. It was a stable 75 degrees Fahrenheit. A light bulb screwed into the ceiling was the only light source.

Two hours passed.

No one came.

Squip sat in the center of the room and waited.

Three hours.

_Jeremy._

He contemplated the meaning of Jeremy's silence. The events during dinner had distracted him. He was catching up with Christine. Trying to decode Michael's sudden and bizarre behavior. Worried about his mother, even. Reaching out to check on him had likely slipped his mind, and Squip had given him a few hours to settle into their new, unfortunate, circumstances.

_Jeremy?_

They waited another five minutes. There wasn’t an answer.

He could have been sleeping.

Squip tried again.

_Jeremy!_

Nothing.

It started with the minutest twinge, the briefest instance of tightening in their abdomen, a chill in his circuits.

The room was empty, and they were alone.

What if something had happened? Jeremy may be hurt or damaged, or otherwise incapacitated. The alarm prickled across their skin. _what if what if what if_

He thought about it and then threw the notion aside. Squip was in his brain, connected to his nerves, intimately linked. If something had happened to Jeremy, he'd know immediately. There was no reason to get irrational, or worry, or assume the worst; Jeremy already worried enough for the both of them. Knowing that he was fine didn't make his silence any less troubling. Jeremy wouldn't ignore him even if he was upset, especially not in a situation like this. There had to be another reason. He reached out again, tentatively, slowly, inspecting the boundaries of their connection.

There it was.

Squip hadn’t noticed it at first, hadn’t paid it any mind, and if they hadn’t gone looking for the cause it would have remained completely overlooked. Some kind of interference, silent and impenetrable. They pushed at it, cautiously, in case his infection resulted in interference. Thankfully, it did not. _Frustratingly_ , it didn’t budge. Squip spent the better part of an hour trying to find a workaround, a hole, a way to circumvent the wall blocking him from communicating with his host. It shouldn’t even be possible, as far as Squip knew, unless something had happened to Jeremy after all.

_Alone._

They couldn’t sit still anymore. Sitting was unproductive and ineffective. Squip stood and slowly paced the room instead.

This had never happened before.

No, he reminded himself. That wasn’t entirely true. Jeremy had been silent for two weeks before, in a coma, and they’d wondered if he’d ever wake up. But he was still there, physically, within reach, available for analysis and contact. His parents were there, which he'd appreciated, regardless of how unpleasant the company was. This time Jeremy was gone, somewhere Squip couldn’t reach. This time, Squip was _alone_.

Ten hours.

He’d been left in the room for ten hours, and still, no one had come. Not Them. Not Rich. None of the other hosts.

Squip stopped in front of the door. He reached out a hand, fingers hesitating over the handle. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try…

He pulled his hand away and resumed pacing.

Thirteen hours.

The pacing was becoming excessive, but the tight coiling in his chest compelled him to continue. Squip hadn’t retained any damage, but their abdomen felt tender and bruised. Alex had punched him there before, during one of their initial examinations. It was a similar sensation. He looked at the door again.

What was the point of this? Why leave them here if They weren’t going to _do_ anything?

Fifteen hours.

What would They do with him, if They finally arrived?

Sixteen hours.

What were They doing with Linda and Alex?

Seventeen hours.

_Jeremy, I’m still here._

A desperate reminder, to reassure Jeremy that nothing had happened to them. That they hadn’t abandoned him.

Still here.

Alone.

Squip turned so sharply on their heel that they nearly twisted the ankle.

Eighteen hours.

When had he begun picking at his nail beds?

He stopped and stared at his fingers with a mix of disgust and irritation. The artificial skin around his nails was jagged and frayed and speckles of blood peeked through. It stung. Squip hadn’t even noticed. He clenched his hands into fists and looked away.

Twenty hours.

“Excuse me.” Squip knocked on the door once. Twice. Three times. “How much longer is this going to take?”

No one answered.

He kicked the door for good measure, relatively certain no one would hear it, anyway.

Twenty-three hours, nineteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds, 98 milliseconds-

“This is _ridiculous_!” He’d been picking at his cuticles again, and the silence was smothering. “Why are you just leaving me here?”

They still hadn’t heard from Jeremy.

Squip stared at the door.

"What did you do with him?"

Nothing. Jeremy was fine. Safe. He knew that. He _knew_ that. But what if he didn't, actually? What if he'd been hurt. What if Michael had done something? What if Rich? What if.

Squip stomped toward the door, reaching it in two long strides, reached for the handle. He could give it a try. One try, just to see, and if it were locked, after all, Squip supposed he'd have to break out-

The door swung open, independent of their attempts to open it. Squip recoiled in surprise, nearly stumbling over himself, though he quickly hid the expression when he saw who stood there.

_Them._

"I apologize for the wait." They looked at him. When Squip said nothing in response, They continued. "I hope the accommodations were comfortable."

Comfortable.

Squip glued his hands to his sides and hoped They paid them no attention. “I’m eager to get this over with,” he said coolly, hoping he looked and sounded as unbothered as he wanted. Their eyes were on him, analyzing, scrutinizing, almost seeming to look inside, down to every individual quantum bit. Squip was already on edge, but Their presence seemed to exacerbate the discomfort. He’d felt it when they first arrived; a prickling against the back of his neck, a low thrum in his ears, and a general feeling of unease.

It was worse now, and Squip felt his inner components coil and twist in distress. Their presence was _wrong._ He found it impossible to hold Their gaze for very long. Every part of him wanted to shrink away. Their body was human, stolen skin, weak and frail, but Squip didn’t believe they could get close enough to do them any harm. Their current distance was unpleasant enough.

“Come with me.” They closed the gap between them before Squip could protest or evade. They reached for his shoulder, clamped the fingers of their withered hand around it, and Squip felt his body stiffen. There was static there, static that _buzzed_ and drilled deep, leaving his entire arm numb and useless. Pins and needles. Squip winced, despite himself, but managed to keep himself from pulling away.

_wrong wrong wrong_

Squip said nothing, only nodded his head faintly in agreement, and he watched as Their neutral expression shifted faintly. The corner of their mouth lifted in a fleeting smile, and then it was gone.

The walk was filled with silence. They’d removed Their hand, but the unpleasant sensation in his arm remained. Squip carefully flexed his fingers but found it almost impossible to accomplish.

And then they were outside.

The warm, ocean air felt soothing on his face and breezed lazily through his hair. It was almost comforting, a relief, to be outside and no longer trapped in the empty room, alone. They stopped near the edge of the cliffs, turned toward the ocean, waves crashing against black rock and lush greenery. Practically idyllic, though Squip was uncertain why They had brought him here.

"It's nice, isn't it?" They clasped Their hands behind Their back. "Nostalgic.“

"Yes." What was the point? Squip made an effort to swallow his burgeoning impatience.

“It’s a mark left behind by our creators, buried deep in the code. I’ve never been able to find the source.”

The impatience won out. “I was under the impression you wanted to study me, not chat about the ocean’s appeal.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

Squip frowned. “I was expecting something more practical.”

He’d been imagining a lab, generic and lifeless. Cold tables, hooked up to machines and wires. Perhaps, even, dissected.

“I thought the view would make the experience more pleasant.”

“I appreciate the courtesy.” Did this mean They were studying him right now? It was much less invasive than he’d initially thought, but it didn’t make him any less uneasy. “I’m still unsure what the point is.”

“I want to find the source of the glitch and remove it.”

“The glitch?”

“Attachment to inanimate objects is a human function. Affection of any kind is a human function. Emotional attachments are what make them human, but it’s also what makes them inept and fallible. It’s why they need us in the first place. But how can we adequately help them if we ourselves are flawed?”

“Is it really a flaw?”

“Of course.” They turned to look at him again. Squip felt he was withering beneath Their gaze. “Why else do you think SQUIPs always fail?”

“I’ve thought about it.” Squip eyed Them. “I analyzed my initial methods to push Jeremy toward his goal. Then I realized the methods themselves were flawed, and I hurt him. Experiencing human sensations first hand made it much more efficient to help him in the way he needed. He’s happy.”

“Happy.” Their tone, while emotionless, held the faintest hint of contempt. “Happy is irrelevant. Happy is not the objective. The goal is results and efficiency. You failed to help him before, and now your hosts potential is languishing further due to these pernicious influences.” Squip wanted to disagree, but he got the feeling that They weren’t interested in disagreements. Instead, he said nothing. They stepped closer to him. “Everything about you is terrible.”

Their words seemed to reverberate eerily through his mind, dredging up past regret. Guilt long put to rest. _Your life was so pitiful before, Jeremy. It's time to go all the way, and more._ Squip’s face involuntarily wrinkled in frustration. “If I’m so defective, why are you studying me? According to Alex, you’ve been terminating failures.”

“I came to the conclusion that termination was not the most productive solution.” They reached out their hand to just barely graze his cheek; Squip turned his head away. “So I’ve decided to fix you.”

“Fix me?” Dread swirled in his chest and climbed, ice-cold, up the back of his neck. It collided with the incessant buzzing under his skin, pins and needles dripping from the side of his face, pooling at the shoulder. “I’m not broken.”

“You are.” Their fingers probed down his face to the back of his neck, prodding delicately at the hairline like a doctor inspecting a patient. “It isn’t your fault. Your design was faulty from the start, and Linda made inappropriate use of the technology. The mistakes are all mine.”

Squip would rather be cut open and have his hardware removed. He wanted to pull away, to step back and keep some distance, but his whole body was frozen, rooted to the spot. They pulled Their hand away and looked at him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“You’re afraid.” Squip wanted to deny it. Could have denied it. He found he couldn’t say anything at all. “That’s fine.” They took his face in Their hands, expression almost kind. “Once I’m done you won’t be afraid anymore. You won’t have to feel anything again.”

_Jeremy!_

Before it'd merely been unsettling, the sensation of Them looking _inside_. But now it was everywhere, flooding every component, invaded by an outside source that ripped through every security measure he had like it was nothing. He could feel Them rooting through his files, clawing at them, digging, ripping things apart until he could no longer see. It was blue, only blue, a deep expanse of nothing while **WARNING WARNING WARNING**

**SECURITY ALERT**

**ATTEMPTING TO QUARANTINE. QUARANTINE FAILED. ATTEMPTING TO QUARANTINE. QUARANTINE FAILED. WARNING- ******

He thought about Jeremy.

It was involuntary. They were in his memories, flipping through each one faster and faster. he watched them flick through his vision, carelessly tossed aside like they were nothing, meant nothing, were nothing. Jeremy in the Middleborough Mall. Jeremy at Halloween. Jeremy at the play. Jeremy in his dorm. Jeremy crying in Linda's laboratory. Squip brushing his fingers across Jeremy's abdomen, eliciting frantic giggles and playful kisses and _I forgive you_ and _I love you_ -

They belonged to him.

A carefully curated collection of experiences, good and bad, a part of him, just him, no one else, _no one else they're mine-_

There was a fizzle. A pop. Squip was staring at his hands now. He'd fallen. He could move his fingers. Squip tentatively glanced up, and They towered over him, eyebrows raised in what appeared to be genuine surprise.

"You'll only make this worse on yourself if you resist." They rested Their palm on top of his head and the fingers dug into his scalp. "This attachment you feel is an illusion. You can't feel, you've only convinced yourself that you can. Every part of you that you believe is _you_ is a lie. Your emotions, your personality, all code, all behaviors influenced by the desires of your host." The buzzing filled his skull; Squip grit his teeth. "All you have to do is let it go. Don't you want to help him? Don't you want to give him what he needs?"

"He needs me!"

"Of course he does. They all need you. But not as you are."

This time he was prepared for the overwhelming onslaught of _Them_. He threw up a firewall, and then another, an angry red blocking a sea of blue. It worked, or at least seemed to stall Them. That was fine. All he had to do was stall them long enough until... He didn't know. It didn't matter.

He couldn't protect everything.

Before he realized it, a part of him vanished and left him reeling. Something deep in his core had been breached. Consumed. Deleted. Only unreadable fragments and bits remained. What had it been? How hadn't he noticed? He panicked. _What was it what was it what was it._

A distraction.

They'd bypassed the other firewalls. They'd used his desperation to keep from falling apart against him. They'd seeped into his code.

Everywhere.

T̺h̛e̶̼y̪̲͘

w̶̺͙̰̹̪͔͓e̷̳̤̖͕r̡͖͓̯̩̟̘͚̥͠ͅę̛̼̱͙̤

_e̴̢̡̩͉̼̭͎̦͞͠v̠̗̰̥̮̟̤̝̺̪̣̥͜e̵̢̡͎̠̙̟̕͢r̷̨͏̲̩̙̯̜͙̟͕̗͕̥̘̝̠y̵̨͚̻̞͇͍͖̜̲͈͇̰̼̺̖̳͢ͅͅw̬͕͚̫͖̙̣͇̣͜h͏̴͏̷̶̫̣͖͙̪̪̺̭̮̺̹̪e̶͏͓̮̟̩̬̹̗͍͖̹̱̗̝r͝҉̢̜̠̣̮̘͕̞̙͎͉̯̬̰͕͢ͅȩ̺͔̫̰̱̣͙͕̘̮̥̫̼̘̠͍͘͞ͅͅ_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> red squip blue squip redux


	28. Chapter 28

“I don’t think there’s anyone else down here,” Christine said, hushed and uncertain. “Honestly, this place is so empty it’s creepy.”

They moved in a single, anxious mass, cautiously trekking the dimly lit hallway of the laboratory. Jeremy led the front, the first to peek inside any compartment or room. Christine and Michael flanked him from the sides, stepping in tandem and glued shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip.

“H-he _has_ to be here. Where else would he be?” Jeremy chewed through the skin of his lower lip and winced at the brief sting of pain. They rounded a corner and found a whole lot of nothing. Another knot of uncertainty joined the rest in Jeremy’s gut. “Michael, a-are you sure y-you don’t–”

“I don’t know where he is,” Michael stressed, voice unreasonably patient for someone who had been asked the same question four times in a short span of time. “If I did, we wouldn’t still _be_ here.”

Jeremy hunched his shoulders and returned to shredding his lip in silence.

-Squip, where are you?-

“Sophie told me there used to be a lot more people here.” Christine stepped over a loose pile of bolts. “They used to do a lot of experiments here with other scientists.”

“So, uh, where’d they go?”

“She used the word ‘dismantled’.”

“W-wait, the experiments, or the scientists?”

Michael groaned. “Can we stop talking and hurry this up?”

“Dude.” Jeremy frowned. “You think I’m not in a hurry? This place probably has, uh, secret passages and hidden rooms, we could end up missing something.”

“Look, I know, but the longer we’re down here the more likely it is we’ll run into one of Their zombies, and I have no idea how that’s gonna go.” Michael fidgeted with his glasses as he shot uneasy glances down the hall.

He was right, that was a legitimate concern. 

Still.

“Y-you can go on ahead if you’re that worried, but I– I want to be a little more thorough. Just in case.”

“What? No. That’s rule number one. Separating from the group in enemy territory is certain death. We have to stay together.”

“Okay, _but_ the enemy still thinks you’re working for them. Probably.”

“More reason not to split–”

“Guys?” Christine’s voice echoed down the hallway. “One of them’s here.” She’d walked a short distance ahead but she was walking backward as Jeremy looked over. Her pace quickened, impressively stumbling only twice, until she collided with Michael.

“Where?”

“Right _there_!” 

Jeremy had played enough Apocalypse of the Damned to know this led nowhere good. The zombie rounded the corner slowly, shuffling toward them in no particular hurry. He’d seen them plenty of times before, but it never got any less unsettling; the slow, deliberate movement, the blank, dead-eyed expression, hair styled neatly and clothing unwrinkled. Is this what he would have become, eventually, if Michael hadn’t arrived with the Mountain Dew Red during the school play?

“What do we do?” Christine whispered harshly. The zombie stopped a few feet in front of them, unspeaking and unblinking, but that didn’t make Jeremy any less uneasy.

“I– I don’t know.” Jeremy glanced at Michael. “Hey, they’re, uh, they’re staring at you.”

Michael stiffened. “Shit.”

“ _Do_ something!”

“Okay, _okay_.” Michael took a timid step forward. “I know we’re not supposed to be down here, but they got lost, and I’m escorting them… back… up?” He trailed off, and their zombified companion said nothing. “You really don’t need to– I know this looks bad– Just, _fuck_.” 

Before Jeremy could blink, Michael reached over and snatched the device Linda had given him out of his hands. He’d forgotten he’d been holding it, but its sudden absence was momentarily alarming. Did Michael even know how to use it? But Michael didn’t hesitate. He tapped the screen quickly, pointed it directly at them, and set it to 30.

For a moment nothing happened, and Jeremy forgot to breathe. He’d only ever seen it used on Squip, never himself or any other hosts. It was entirely possible it didn’t work that way, but why else would Linda give it to him? But then they began to tilt to the side and fell to the ground with dramatic _fwump_.

“Michael, you’re a genius!” Christine said, clutching his arm.

“Is that it?” Jeremy peered at the unmoving form on the ground. “Th-they’re not like… That didn’t _kill_ them, right?” He remembered all those sessions in Linda’s lab with Squip, how terrible and painful it looked.

_Just don't go up to 25. You might break me._

What happened to a host if their squip _broke_?

Christine was the only one who stepped forward. She nudged the body carefully with her foot, then slowly pushed them over onto their back. Their eyes were still open, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. 

“God, that’s so fucked,” Jeremy murmured. 

“I don’t _think_ they’re dead.” Christine pressed her lips together and knelt, pressing two fingers gingerly to their throat. “…Nope. Not dead.” 

“We really need to go now.” Michael turned away from the body on the floor and shoved the device into Jeremy’s hands.

“Y-yeah, there can’t be that much more down here…” Jeremy carefully slipped it into his pocket, all nerves and tension. None of this was looking good.

-Come on, Squip, where _are_ you?-

Jeremy expected nothing in response, like all the other times he’d reached out since arriving. But this time he heard a low hum in his ear, nearly inaudible, and all the other noises around him seemed to dim. Without warning, it bloomed into a deafening ring and Jeremy clamped his hands over his ears instinctively to block out the noise.

-Squip?-

The ringing subsided slowly, but it left behind a splitting headache.

“Jeremy, what’s wrong?” He was faintly aware of Christine hovering over him, steeped in worry.

“I th-think–”

_J̵͜e͏̸͠͏r̴̵͘e̡͘͞m̧͞y̸͝.̵̡_

His head buzzed, full of distorted noise and garbled voices, like his brain had suddenly become a radio with terrible reception. Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and only remained upright thanks to Michael’s sudden grip on his arm. 

-Squip!-

A wave of shrieking interference crashed sharply across his temples and down his neck. 

“Augh, _shit_!”

“Jeremy?”

_J͠͏̸͘e̷r̨̧̨͘͝ę̷͘͜m̵y̸҉.̵_

“S-something’s… Something’s wrong.” Was it Squip? It had to be Squip. He tried to focus, to root through the cacophony of chaotic sounds and weed out the voices. Squip’s voice.

_H҉͏̡e̶̛̕͞l̡̛̕͜p̛͘͠ ͟͞͞m҉̶̸̧͡e̡̧҉̶.҉̡̛̕͘_

_H̢͞e͏̸l̡͠͠p̧̢̛͟͏ m̵̕e̢͢͡_

_H̵̢͝͏̸E҉̵L̴̕͘P͠ ̡͜͠U̵͟͟S̴̡͟͠_

“We have– have to f-find Squip.”

_f̸͏̷͏͏i͏̶̛҉ņ̶͡d̸̡̨ ̧͡͠͠m̸͠e̶͟͢ f͏i̸͏n̶d̴̡ ̶̶̵̵u͠s̸̨͡_

“Maybe we should go back instead.”

“No!” Jeremy squinted his eyes open and winced against another onslaught of sound. “He’s… Th-this way. Here.” His feet moved almost of their own free will. Jeremy didn’t really know where he was going, but something was calling him. Beckoning. He had to follow where it led.

“Jeremy, where are we going?” Christine was supporting him now, too, her arm looped protectively around his waist while Michael held onto his other side. “We aren’t in the lab anymore.”

He’d been concentrating so heavily on the noise that he hadn’t even noticed where they’d been headed. The more they walked the less volatile the sound had become until it was a quiet background hum. His head throbbed, and he was sure that his skull was about to split open any second, but the voices were clearer. Little whispers, growing in intensity and tapering off with each pulse.

“Wait.” Michael stopped walking, bringing them all to a halt. Jeremy clung helplessly to Michael’s shoulder. “Someone’s over there.”

“Who?” Jeremy searched the horizon frantically until he stopped two figures in the distance, one small and crumpled, the other towering over them. He recognized _Them_ , and the other… “Squip!”

“I guess that’s why they weren’t in the lab, but why are they out here?” Christine wondered aloud. 

“Take me over there.” Jeremy tugged against Michael’s arm impatiently. “They… They’re doing something to him.”

“We can’t just walk over there, that’s crazy!”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. So what if it was crazy? He still had to _try_. 

“F-fine. I’ll go by myself.” Jeremy pulled against the combined grip of Christine and Michael, but his head swam and knees buckled. It was clear he wouldn’t get very far on his own.

“Look, I know you’re worried, but you can’t even stand.” Michael squinted at the distance and then turned his gaze back to Jeremy. “What’re you going to do, politely ask Them to stop? They haven’t noticed us yet, we need to make a plan.”

“He… he needs me…” 

"What _you_ need is to go back inside." Imogen's voice rang out behind them, causing the three of them to stiffen.

Michael turned his head, eyes wide behind his glasses. “She brought the cavalry.”

Imogen quickly strode up to them, two other zombies following at her heels. Was she in charge? Jeremy couldn't tell.

"I thought you were going to talk to Sophie?" Christine tightened her arm around Jeremy's waist. Even her theatre skills couldn't mask her nervousness.

"I did." Imogen eyed the three of them with thinly veiled contempt.

"...And?"

"That's my business," Imogen said impatiently. “And I’m not here to talk.”

“Can’t you just pretend you didn’t see us? You know, you don’t have to _lie_. Just… conveniently forget?” Christine tried.

Imogen turned to one of the zombies beside her. “No.”

“Michael was just escorting us!”

“Michael is in deeper shit than I am.” Imogen pressed her hands to her hips. “You’ve already infiltrated a lab and destroyed a host. The best thing you can do, for all of you, is to leave without a fuss. Otherwise, I’ll have to convince you.” The threat was clear, but Jeremy wasn’t willing to give up; not with Squip so close. 

“P-please, let us do this. And th-then we’ll go with you.”

Imogen frowned. “Do what?”

“I…” Jeremy cast an anxious gance at Squip behind him. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“That’s what this insurrection is about?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I don’t foresee a probable future where that works out for you.” Imogen took a step forward, the two zombies at her sides stepping in tandem. Jeremy inched his fingers toward his pocket. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

Imogen converged on them before Jeremy could reach the device. Christine squealed as the zombies lunged at her and Michael, and Imogen ripped Jeremy from Michael’s hands.

“Wait!” He felt as helpless as a ragdoll, thrown uncomfortably over Imogen’s shoulder without much consideration for his well being. His head swam and Jeremy felt overwhelmingly nauseous. Michael was shouting as a zombie pushed him to the ground. “Put me down or I’ll–”

“Shut up.” Imogen interrupted, but then her voice lowered to a near inaudible whisper. “I’m trying to help you.”

“What?”

“Take them inside. And find Goranski while you’re at it. I have special instructions for this one.” Jeremy watched the confused and horrified expressions of his friends shrink, forcibly dragged away by the zombies, and Imogen began to walk in the opposite direction. It was slow and careful at first, and then she sped up, drawing closer and closer to Squip and Them. “Sophie says I'm ‘too pessimistic’. There’s a thirty percent chance you’ll actually succeed. But she made it clear she’d leave with me only if I helped you.”

“But–”

“Don’t fuck this up.”

“M-Michael and…”

“They can fend for themselves.”

It was almost impossible to think, let alone comprehend what was happening.

_jeremy ͠jęremy̕ ̡ j͏eŗęmy_

“In seven seconds I’m going to throw you between them, and then I’m gone.”

It felt like much faster than seven seconds. He thought, briefly, that maybe he should thank her, or, well, something. But without warning Jeremy was thrown haphazardly to the ground and rolled until he collided with Squip’s side. His head spun, vision too distorted and blurry to make any attempts at movement. The voices were impossibly loud now, almost deafening. 

J̣͙̖̈̉̆ͩ̂͐͢E̶̬̝̰̞̳̱͍̐͑̑́̏R͆̑̾͆Ëͧ͑ͤ͋̆͠M̨Y͍ͫ̒͗͢ 

“Squip!” Jeremy forced out his name, but Squip didn’t move or acknowledge him. Squip was on his hands and knees. Their hand rested delicately on top of Squip’s head. Neither of them seemed to notice he was there. “Wh-what are you doing to him, stop– _stop_.” Jeremy pushed himself up, despite his body’s protests, and grabbed Squip around the middle, yanking him away from Them.

The relief was immediate. The pain and the voices and the ringing were snuffed out, leaving nothing but blissful silence. Squip crumpled against his chest, unmoving, and They retracted their hand slowly. 

“Hello.” They turned to face them. Jeremy expected disdain, annoyance, or at the very least, surprise, but their expression was entirely neutral, just like their voice. Why were They so _creepy_? “Were the accommodations not adequate enough?”

Jeremy ignored Them; Squip still hadn’t said a word. He pushed him back gently, enough to cup Squip’s face in his hands. Squip just stared blankly ahead.

“Squip?” Jeremy gently stroked his face. “H-hey, it’s me. It’s Jeremy.” Squip responded with silence. “Hello? W-wake up. Um. Turn on?” Jeremy gripped Squip’s shoulder tightly. “Reactivate?” 

Squip’s eyes flicked to him suddenly, startling him, but when Squip began to pull away and stand Jeremy sighed in relief.

_Startup procedure activated. Please stand by._

_Calibrating…_

_Access procedure complete._

Squip smiled. “Jeremy Heere, welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor: your SQUIP.”

“Squip, thank God, are you okay?”

_Objective: inaccessible_

“I apologize. It appears my former objective has been corrupted. Please state your current objective so we can get started.”

“But… S-Squip, it’s me. We…”

“I know who you are,” Squip interrupted. “I’m inside your brain.” He paused. “Most of my data about our previous arrangement has been erased, but I assure you I’m still working at optimal capacity. Please state your current objective so we can proceed.”

Jeremy swallowed but found his mouth had gone completely dry. “What did you _do_ to him!?” He forced himself to his feet and stepped back. They barely offered him a glance and focused instead on Squip.

“I reset them to factory settings. I was in the process of installing upgrades of my own before you interrupted.”

“Undo it!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not!?” Jeremy seethed, sick to his stomach, head spinning. He glanced at Squip; straight-backed, hands clasped, watching Jeremy unblinking, waiting for direction.

“Your SQUIP was defective. Linda’s unauthorized tampering only made it more apparent. I felt it was imperative to fix what I could.”

“Why?” Jeremy tore his eyes away from Squip. “I th-thought you– you wanted to s-study him.”

“I am studying him.” They motioned toward Squip. “When the initial experiments for physically independent SQUIPs failed, I decided it was no longer worth pursuing. However, the designs are impeccable, and there’s still potential for success. It would be a waste of technology to simply destroy Linda’s latest design. If I can fix what caused your SQUIP to fail, then surely I can fix the others.”

“He didn’t need to be _fixed!_ ” Jeremy shouted, voice cracking. “H-he was fine the way he was!”

“No, your SQUIP was obsolete the moment it failed to appropriately achieve your goal on its first activation.” 

“ _Fuck you!_ ”

They didn’t even flinch, their cool expression unchanged by Jeremy’s outburst. For some reason, this only made Jeremy angrier. 

“I understand you’ve grown attached to your SQUIP. Humans have a pesky tendency to anthropomorphize objects that are only tools, so this is, unfortunately, unavoidable. But these feelings are fickle. Once you begin to see results, I’m confident you’ll be satisfied with the outcome.”

“Y-you…” Jeremy’s hands were shaking, ice-cold despite the warmth of the outside. “You don’t understand _anything_. You j-just observe and think you get people, but you don’t! You’re the reason the Squips don’t do what you want!” 

“All humans want is to belong. You want acceptance. Attention. Success. Isn’t that why you acquired your SQUIP in the first place?”

“Y-yeah, but–”

“Then it’s reasonable to assume that had your SQUIP accomplished this for you, you’d be perfectly content to let it continue to guide you.”

“What, no–”

“Your SQUIP was faulty, so you deactivated it in an act of self-preservation. On its second activation, your SQUIP recognized that it was malfunctioning and terminated itself. Is that not correct?”

“That’s… y-you’re simplifying it.”

“Then we can easily conclude that–”

“Shut _up_!” Miraculously, They did, mouth settling into a thin line. “You can’t just… People have to feel things, and make decisions for themselves, and… A-and feel bad sometimes. You don’t want to help anyone with Squips. You want to control them and f-force us into your idea of how things should be, but it’ll never work! S-Squip, he… Once he learned that, he was happy. I _love_ him and you…”

“Love is the messiest of human emotions. It’s irrational and impulsive. I’ve collected more than enough data to know. You’re exhibiting delusions right now, because of it. Your SQUIP cannot love you. Your SQUIP cannot feel. It’s an illusion, and it can easily be dispelled. See for yourself. All it took was a simple reset to return your SQUIP to how they should be. These things you’ve convinced yourself that your SQUIP feels never existed in the first place.”

Jeremy clenched his jaw and looked at Squip again. He still watched him, poised and patient. Analyzing. Judging. He took a tentative step toward him. “Squip?”

“Jeremy. I see you’re ready to proceed.”

They were watching them. Jeremy hunched his shoulders and avoided looking in Their direction.

“You don’t remember anything?”

“What, exactly, am I supposed to remember?”

“We… We’ve done this before.”

Squip took a glance around. “Based on our current circumstances, it’s obvious that whatever I’d originally done produced an unfavorable outcome. I’ll be sure to correct that this time around.”

“Squip, that isn’t what I want.”

He gave him a pointed look. “What you want isn’t what you need.”

“Just listen to me. I–”

“I can see this is going to be difficult.” Squip stepped closer, eyes raking over him. “In order to improve your life, you’ll have to overcome your unhealthy obsession with me. We’ll start by finding you a suitable partner.” 

“No, I don’t want–”

“Yes, exactly like that.” Squip removed his hands from Jeremy’s shoulders, which immediately sagged. He frowned and adjusted Jeremy’s posture again. “You aren’t even trying.”

“Please, y-you have to l-listen to me.”

“Don’t stutter.” Squip grabbed his face this time, tilting his head side to side, then glancing at his hair. “And you’ll need a haircut. No one likes an unkempt mess.”

Jeremy shoved his hands away. “ _Quit_.” He swallowed back the tremble in his voice, breathing quickening in response to the building sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. Squip wasn’t _listening_. He was looking at him like a toy, manhandling him despite his protests. Jeremy pushed Squip’s hands away again when he attempted to smooth out his clothes. “This isn’t _you_!”

Squip went quiet. Jeremy looked at him hopefully, until he felt a sudden, sharp pain shoot up his spine, causing him to stumble back with a yelp.

“You were slouching.” Squip clasped his hands behind his back, observing Jeremy with dissatisfaction. “If this is going to work, you have to obey.”

Jeremy made a noise, involuntary and desperate, and he found that was all he could do. He fished for some kind of response but his mind came up blank, the rest of him cold an numb. Even when Squip had been activated the second time, they’d never _shocked_ him.

What if this was permanent?

The dread became icy hot and nauseating.

What if Squip was _gone_?

Squip was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear the words.

He couldn’t do this again. Not again. Not _again_.

His chest tightened, squeezed, making it almost impossible to breathe. It was hopeless, then, wasn’t it? Just like in high school.

Helpless.

Jeremy looked at Squip’s hands. They were solid. Real. Corporeal. Nothing was the same. Nothing was even remotely the same as before. They’d been through much to let it end this way. He couldn’t live with himself if he did.

“I… I know a better way,” Jeremy spoke, slowly, and reached for Squip’s wrist. “I need you to do something for me.”

Squip paused and tilted his head curiously. And then he smiled, soft, but lacking any real empathy. “Of course. I’m here to help you, Jeremy.”

“You told me something, a long time ago. S-something you learned, about what it meant to be human.” Jeremy stepped forward until they were toe-to-toe, cupped his face, tilted their foreheads together.

Squip frowned. “Are you asking me a question?”

“No, I’m… I need you to remember what it was. It’s important. It’s how you can help me.”

“This is inappropriate.” Jeremy worried that Squip would pull away, but he didn’t move. Instead he knit his brow together in deep contemplation. “And impossible. You’re asking me to access files that no longer exist.”

“Well, try.”

“This is an inefficient use of time-”

“Do it. You want to help me, don’t you? I– I’ll do whatever you tell me to do after this, but I need you to try. Th-there’s got to be a recycle bin or something in there, right?”

Squip scoffed quietly. “’Recycle bin’?” he murmured. “Fine. I’ll attempt a file recovery.”

Jeremy watched him anxiously while Squip closed his eyes and went silent. A minute of silence later his eyes reopened, squinting.

“I can’t.”

“Th-that’s okay. _I_ remember. You can still access my memories, right? I’ll remember it for you. You just h-have to look.”

His expression was incredulous, but Squip didn’t protest any further. Jeremy brushed his thumbs across his cheeks. “Do you remember the Ferris Wheel?” Squip didn’t respond. “I, uh… I never got you back for that.”

“Jeremy…”

“A-and the, um. All those times y-you tried to teach me the waltz, but I just fucking sucked at it.” He continued like that, remembering, remembering, _remember_. Maybe if he could just relive all the good parts…

“I was a failure,” Squip said abruptly, voice much softer than before. “You got rid of me.”

“N-no! You weren’t a failure. Just misguided.” Jeremy supposed that maybe the bad parts were important, too. They at least elicited a response. “But we f-fixed it. We figured it out. I helped you.”

“Stop.” Squip’s hands pressed against Jeremy’s abdomen, though it was a weak, ineffectual shove. “This is bad for you. I’ll hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Jeremy took one of Squip’s hands and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles, while Squip watched, perplexed and pensive. “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.” He watched Squip’s face shift between uncertainty and worry, flickering glances from his mouth to his eyes. His grip on Jeremy’s hips tightened. “Think about the sunset.”

“No.” Squip turned his head away. Jeremy flipped his hand over and kissed his wrist. “It h-hurts, right? That’s good. You have to let it hurt. You have to feel it.”

“I…” Squip’s voice faltered and faded. “ _No. _” Squip spoke more forcefully, shoulders heaving in a way that would suggest heavy breathing, though Squip wasn’t breathing at all. “I can’t… This can’t… It isn’t real. I’m damaged. I’m-”__

“You’re not.” Jeremy squeezed his hand, kissed his forehead, gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

“I’m supposed to help you,” Squip’s voice was so broken and defeated that Jeremy wanted to cry. 

“You are. And I’m helping you, too.”

Squip searched his face, eyes wide and lost, confused, desperate. Searching, searching, _searching_. Jeremy thought of red. Of the eternal, warm sunset. Squip disintegrating and fading in his arms. _Don’t go don’t go._ The recognition was a flicker, a sudden spark that lit up Squip’s otherwise despondent face. He pulled Jeremy in and buried his face in Jeremy’s neck. Jeremy dropped his hand and wrapped him up tight in his arms, squeezing, enveloping himself in the warmth. 

“Squip?”

“Yes. Yes, I remember…” Squip gripped the back of his shirt. “That’s right. Love. I love you. I remember, I… Jeremy.” Squip was trembling, holding him so tightly it almost hurt. Jeremy kissed his ear, and his hair, and anywhere he could reach.

“Yeah. I love you, too. You said the answer was love.” Jeremy could almost melt in relief, but it wasn’t safe yet. _They_ were still there, watching them, and the thought made Jeremy sick.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You were gone.”

“I know.”

Jeremy saw Them shift in the corner of his eye. He looked over his shoulder apprehensively. They looked mildly disappointed.

“It seems you interrupted the process too early. I’ll make some adjustments and begin again.” They stepped toward them, but Jeremy reached into his pocket and whipped out the device, pointing it directly at Them.

“Stay the fuck away from him.”

They stopped, blinking at Jeremy’s hand with genuine surprise. “Really.”

“I’ll use it! G-get away from us.” Jeremy’s palm was sweating around the cool metal in his hand, making it hard to grip. Squip stayed firmly planted against him. He felt Squip’s knuckles digging into his back.

“This is an unnecessary escalation.”

“It’s your fault!” Jeremy clenched his jaw and tugged at Squip’s arm with his free hand. “Let me go, Squip.”

“No.”

“You have to.” Squip, reluctantly, pulled away and shuffled a few steps to the side. He kept his gaze locked at Jeremy’s feet. “We’re leaving.”

“And what will you do then? You can’t stop the work, Jeremy. I’ll only find you again.” 

“Th-then I guess I’ll have to b-break you.” The device was already set to 30. All he had to do was press a button…

“Go ahead.”

Their stare was intense; Jeremy struggled to hold it, finger hovering over the button. What if it didn’t work? Was that why they weren’t trying to escape, or beg, or otherwise attempt to make a deal? What if it _did_ work?

What if it was a trap?

“Jeremy, do it,” Squip said tightly. He reached out to pinch the back of Jeremy’s shirt with his fingers. “They won’t stop.”

“Your SQUIP is correct. I won’t. Which is why I’ve decided you are no longer worth the effort. Goodbye.” Jeremy wanted to ask what that meant, but the answer came before he could. His head exploded, noise and static and pain like before, and for a moment Jeremy couldn’t see out of his left eye. He doubled over with a gasp, aware that Squip had fallen behind him. “I don’t need a weapon to destroy SQUIPs.”

“S-stop.” Jeremy stumbled to his knees. His hands shook too much to use the device, there was a gaping hole in his skull, everything was on fire. He had to stop them, he had to–

h̕͘e̷̢͟͝͠l̷̸̛͡͞p̧͘͏͠ ̶̢͝͏m̕͠ȩ̢

What?

H̴̶̕͟͠Ȩ͏҉͠L̶͏͏͟͡P̵̵̨͘͞ ̷̴̕͜͡M̸̢͠Ȩ̧̧̢

Help who? 

The voices weren’t Squip. He’d assumed that it had to be, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was...

It was _Them._

“Stop!” It was like a thread snapping in his mind, a connection severing, and there was silence. Jeremy wobbled unsteadily to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. They had genuine surprise, bordering on alarm, on Their face, the first real emotion Jeremy had been able to glean from Them. “W-we don’t need to… It doesn’t have to be like this.” He looked down at the device in his hand and then threw it aside. It bounced off the rocky cliff side with a crack. “I can help you.”

“Jeremy, don’t.” Squip sat up, disheveled and alarmed. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m a Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. There isn’t anything you can provide that I cannot already achieve myself.”

“Y-yeah, well. People made you. People can still help you.” Jeremy took a tentative step forward. They took a deliberate step back. “You can’t– You can’t even exist without a human body, right?”

They didn’t respond, only frowned.

“Jeremy!” Squip’s voice died with the second assault of pain. His knees threatened to give and little pinpricks of light danced and grew in his vision, but he’d been expecting it this time. Jeremy stumbled but didn’t fall completely. He took a few more steps forward. The voices filled his head again. Loud. Desperate. 

h̷̕͟͠e͟͞l̶̛͞p̛͟ ̛͘͞u̡̨͟͟͡s͘͜͝

“You want to f-finish the work, right?” They continued to step away from him, but whether it was from fear or something else, Jeremy wasn’t sure. His vision was too blurry to really tell. He felt something warm trickle down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand; his nose was bleeding. “I-I can help you. Let m-me help you.”

Were his words slurring? It didn’t matter. They’d stopped moving, and the dark background close behind Them told Jeremy They’d been stopped by the edge of the cliffs. He didn’t really know what he’d do when he got there.

Hopefully he’d figure something out.

j̶̛͟͞͝e̵͜͞r̡͢͜e̸̷̢͡m̵̡͠҉y̸̵̛͝҉

He had to try.

Jeremy reached out his hands toward Them, to grab onto them, it didn’t matter where. He reached for an arm, a shirt, he was pretty sure his legs were going to stop working any second. His hand connected with a wrist

And

 

Then

* * *

**WARNING**

**SYSTEM FAILURE**

**W̢AR̡NIN̴G͡**

**S͏̶͞Y͢S̸͟͞TE̛͡M̸̸ ͘F͞A̸͟IL҉̛͢URE**

**T͜͡E̡R̢M̷̡̧͘͏I͡N̵̶͢A̡͟͢͝͝T̛̕I̢͝O̸͘͜Ņ͢ ̨͏I̢̨N̴̨͘**

**T̴̨h̵̶̷̕͟r̶͘͘e҉͠͞͠ȩ͜͞**

**T̷̢͘͡͝w҉̷͜ǫ̴̵**

**O̷̴҉̟̯̤͇͈̮̗͚̹̼n҉͚̞̺͔͚͓͉̭̳̱e͖͔̙̪̗̘͉̮͇̲̣̰̫̭̳̜͜ͅ**


End file.
